


Maybe If You’re Here (I Can Survive)

by Invisiblyhappy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, King Harry Styles, King Louis Tomlinson, M/M, No Smut, Prince Harry Styles, Prince Louis Tomlinson, Sweet, Tattoos, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 47,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Invisiblyhappy/pseuds/Invisiblyhappy
Summary: The united kingdom, has - for centuries - been split into thirteen kingdoms, and when the prince is asked to spy on the enemy, he doesn’t expect to find his soulmate in the process.**THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD AND EDIT OF ALL IT COST HIM BY ME**
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maardol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maardol/gifts), [Klaudelek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaudelek/gifts).



The United Kingdom has never been so un-United than it is today.   
Centuries ago, at the time of King Arthur and his Knights of the round table, there were wars nearly everyday, neighbour fighting neighbour, son fighting father. It was hell on Earth.   
Arthur made a decision, with the help of his trusted adviser and sorcerer; Merlin. There would be no one king anymore, instead there would be 13; 13 kingdoms, each with their own king who makes the laws. Each king would be hand chosen by Arthur himself, plucked from his knights of 150.   
Each kingdom was given a name, this name would impact everything. Every knight had a rare gem embedded in the handle of their sword, and it was decreed that those gems would be the foundations for the kingdoms. 

And so, thirteen knights were chosen; Arthur himself became king of Emerald, the most powerful kingdom. His rival, Lancelot, would be given Sapphire, a poor and pathetic kingdom. Gawain and Percival were given Morganite and Obsidian respectively. Sir Mordred; Opal. Gerraint; Onyx. Lamorak; Sunstone. Bors the younger; Ruby. Bedivere; Moonstone. Sir Galahad; Heliodor. Gaheris; Amethyst, and finally Kay Sir Gareth was given Hematite.  
These rare gems and crystals were more than just a name, they dictated what you could wear, what colours you could see and everything in that kingdom was the same colour, except differing in shade and intensity. Fire in Emerald was a bright green that hurt your eyes, but fire in Morganite was a soft rose that calmed you immediately. 

Not all the knights were happy with this decision, and demanded a change of gem, or a bigger kingdom. And so, with the help of Merlin, the natural rules of the earth were changed. For now, if you wanted a different colour you would have to take it, invasion was the only way to change your kingdom. And so began The Colour War. 

The Colour War had been going on for centuries, with some kingdoms never happy with their name, and others simply wanting to invade in order to expand. One such kingdom is The Sapphire Kingdom, who have been trying - and failing - to become Emerald. These neighbouring kingdoms seem to forever be at war, with peace seeming to never come. 

The advancement of technology, law, politics, education, and society too differs in each kingdom. With some stuck in the Victorian Era, and others passing the Modern. Some, much like our beloved Sapphire Kingdom, seemed to skip Eras entirely, with Medieval ways of thinking but certain modern technologies. These advancements are the one thing that Kingdoms cannot go to war for, not try to steal, for everyone believed that self improvement was best when it came down to it. But, once a Kingdom has successfully taken another’s name and colour, they can take - if they so desire - everything that comes with that name.

As time went on, each kingdom found themselves representing certain core values of their First Kings.   
Emerald are seen as arrogant, narcissistic, but hardworking. Whereas the people of Sapphire embodied the characteristics of Lancelot; kind, loyal, but stubborn.

The people of each kingdom have the eyes to match as well; the people of Onyx have black eyes, and those of Diamond have white, Morganite; Pink and Emerald; Green. 

However, Royals are the only people whose eyes can change, for as they get closer to the throne, their eyes will change to match the kingdom of which they truly belong, a trick Merlin thought would be useful in identifying the best leaders for each kingdom. If a royals eyes change when they reach the throne - or as close as they will ever get to it - they can choose to give up their position for the kingdom that chose them, but they will no longer be royal, they will simply be. 

For hundreds of years, the thought of a united country has spread, with many loving the idea. The idea of no borders between kingdoms, of laws that every kingdom must abide by. Some kingdoms are very hostile, such as the Opal kingdom, who believe that they should be the overarching kingdom. Others do not believe this. It is a fact, very much known that most people believe that Sapphire should be the ones in charge, if a situation like that were to occur. Their core values are the most well balanced, and the entire country has heard of the kindness of the prince with the blue eyes.   
He is said to be forgiving, extremely charitable and sweet. A complete opposite to the king - his father, a hard, stubborn and argumentative man. A man not suited to being king. A man mad with power. 

Our story begins in the kingdom of Emerald, where a pair of ocean-blue eyes plague the dreams of a young boy, or perhaps I should say; prince...


	2. Chapter 2

_He was every clouds silver lining. He was the first laughter in a baby. When he smiled, as did the sun. When he cried, thunder clapped._   
_He was everything good in this world, and, everything broken in it too. His blue eyes left sun spots dancing around the room. They blinked slowly at him, so close his eyelashes stroked his cheek._

Harry awoke from this daydream to a snapping of fingers in front of his eyes. He looked up to the eyes that owned these fingers and smiled.

“What did I miss?” The eyes smiled warmly back at him.

“You really need to start paying attention in these meetings, my dear.”

The eyes were a warm brown that could calm any sea. Harry thought that no woman would ever be as beautiful as her, well, not in his lifetime at least.

“I’m sorry, mama. But why do I need to be here? I’m not next in line.”

The eyes started to roll with a hint of a scowl followed close behind.

“No. Your sister is, but we don’t know yet if she plans to accept. And you need to be here, one; for her and two; just in case.”

Harry looked around the room to meet the slight irritation of the council members. He sighed and nodded his head in agreement. The eyes were still at the forefront of his mind, he tried to push them aside, but they sneaked back. It took everything in him to not think of where those eyes were. Who they belonged to. They stared into his soul, and his soul reacted in ways he didn’t realise he was possible.  
He wanted to leave. Leave this castle, this kingdom, hell, even this life. He wanted to find those eyes. No, he _needed_ to find those eyes. Ever since they appeared in his dreams two weeks ago, his soul was on fire, his heart pumped with the ache of those eyes. He never knew his body could react in such a way, especially to nothing more than a dream. That’s all it was, there was nothing more to it. Just a dream.

Once the meeting is over, which consisted of multiple talks of when Elizabeth, his sister, should take the throne, that is, if she even wanted it.  
Harry was relieved, to be quite honest, he’s never wanted the throne, and he’d much prefer to be in these talks than to have these talks be about him.  
He returned to his bedroom where he decided he needed to brush up on his history as he kept getting lost as people spoke - why did Sapphire hate us again? Was Lancelot Emeralds First King or Sapphires?  
The second he had found a book and begun to open its cover, his door opened hastily, and with a loud thump as it was closed just as quickly. He continued to flick through the pages as the eyes stared through the back of his head.

“What do you want?”

Harry asked, still not removing his eyes from the page, there’s a sigh and a soft bang as someone flings themselves onto his bed.

“You know what I want.”

Harry rolls his eyes and finally turns around to meet a pair of unblinking hazel eyes.

“Liz, I’ve told you. I can’t tell you what happens in those meetings.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at his sister who just pouts and slumps into the bed.

“They asking you to be King yet?”

Lizzy asks, not so nonchalant. Harry has to roll his eyes once again.

“Subtle. You know they’re not. Besides, I don’t want it.”

Lizzy laughs and picks at her nails. Harry spins around in his seat, brows furrowed,

“I’m not sure you should’ve said that.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as his sister continued to pick at her nails, every once in a while she’d giggle loudly, but no matter how much Harry begged to know what she meant, she wouldn’t say a word.  
Her hair was long, warm brown and straight, she had recently bleached the ends of it, and Harry could see the amber lightning that gliding down her hair. And yet, not a curl in sight, it made Harry jealous. Curly hair is such a burden.

“Liz, c’mon. I’m getting bored.”

She rolled her eyes in response and huffed.

“Fine.”

Harry burst through the throne room doors, despite the guards begging him not to. They were grabbing at the mint fabric of his jumper. He simply shrugged them off, as anger threatened to turn to fury.

“You want me to what?”

Harry asks the council, sickly calm, his anger seeping out of his very pores, palms balled into fists. The council turn in confusion, as his mother makes her way to him, arms outstretched. There’s a warning in her eyes but Harry ignores it, he’s too angry to deal with her calm.

“My dear, we haven’t asked you to do anything.”

Harry backs away, laughing and looking at the floor. Once Harry’s eyes meets his mother’s she puts her hands by her sides, almost frightened. He almost calmed, he wanted to know what it was in his eyes that scared her so, but his anger took over, forcing that curiosity back down, like the bitter taste of bile.

“I will _not_ spy on Sapphire. We are finally at peace.”

This was true, the war between the two kingdoms had ended ten years ago, but they were anything but friends.  
The gasps that followed told Harry that not everyone in the council was aware of this idea. Harry looked to his mother, whose eyes had turned a brilliant green, the colour of his Kingdom, and were full of fury.

“Get. Out.”

It scared Harry, his mother was not often angry, she was the embodiment of Obsidian; calm, strong, and kind. But when her eyes turned, she was anything but. It made Harry wonder what colour his eyes turned when he was angry. What was it in his eyes that scared her so? He almost growled, there was anger in the pit of his stomach, and it threatened to grow. Instead, he pushed it down low. He knew he would regret walking away, knew it was his right to know what exactly was going on, that it was his kingdom too at stake, but he turned on his heel to the sound of muffled voices and headed back to his room.

Harry returned to his bedroom, and soon after, his dinner was at his door. The sign that Harry was not to talk to anyone until someone came to see him. He huffed and threw himself on his bed.

“I will not. I will not.”

He whispered to himself, a soothing mantra. However it did not soothe him, it simply made his emotions flare. He continued this mantra until he was curled up, sobbing into his pillows.  
And finally, he heard a key enter a lock, and his could no longer escape. He was used to being locked in his room, when he came of an age to look at his demons in the eyes, every night he’d scream, cry to his sister, mother, guard, anyone that would listen, but soon those demons engulfed him, they dried his tears, kissed his head, and tucked him in as he drifted off to sleep. Some nights, his demons were his only friends.  
He didn’t eat his dinner, he wept into his pillows until those blue eyes came to comfort him in his dreams, and he wished that morning would never come. His dreams were his only comfort nowadays. He never saw the whole person, he just saw the eyes, heard the voice. But he was in love. He wasn’t scared to admit it, there was a feeling there. A magnificent feeling. A feeling that made the moon brighter and the flowers grow quicker. He hates to wake in the morning, hates to have to say goodbye.  
For those first thirty seconds of the day, he’s in bliss, still in his dreams. But then he remembers all the green that surrounds him, and realises those blue eyes aren’t here, and never will be.

***

Harry was startled awake by the loud opening and closing of his bedroom door. Those blue eyes making his heart ache as his dream spilled over into reality. He sighed and threw his head back down into his pillow, pleading for the eyes to return. He couldn’t deal with the reality, he wanted the dream, was that too much to ask?

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you dear.”

His mother walked over to his bed, her heels echoing on the marble flooring. He rolled his eyes. Of course she meant to wake him, otherwise why close his door so bloody loudly?  
Her eyes have returned to their calm brown, any trace of green erased. Harry was still angry at the council for the idea that he should spy on the Sapphire Kingdom. He crossed his arms firmly across his chest. His mother begins to stoke his hair, curls tickling her fingers. It was a calming gesture, well it was supposed to be, but Harry felt wrong. He didn’t want to be touched. He flinched away, but her hand was still entangled, and she lightly pulls at a particular curl at the crown of his head, forcing his head back.

“The council have been talking, dearest. You don’t have a choice in this, you will leave tonight. Don’t look at me like that, it’s not a bad thing, dear. It’s good, just a simple safety precaution, that’s all. We just want to make sure that Sapphire isn’t about to try anything.”

Harry looked at her in complete shock, was she seriously defending her actions? Her eyes had returned to that deep green. A green that unnerves him. A green that terrifies him. He sighs internally and nods, dropping his head, he understands that this is a duty of the prince, and if he can do his duty, then it’s worth it. He isn’t sad, he’s almost happy, he decides that he wants to be anywhere, anywhere but here. And if that place is Sapphire, well, he’ll take what he’s given. And maybe if he’s really lucky- No! He won’t think that. He can’t. If he thinks it, he’ll want it. And then he’ll be disappointed when he doesn’t get it. He won’t allow himself to be disappointed. Or - perhaps more accurately - heartbroken. If he even thought it, just thinking it into existence makes it real. And when it’s real, people get hurt. Although no one told Harry that people get hurt whether or not you speak it into existence.

Two hours later and the Queen finally leaves. Harry now knows exactly what it is he needs to do. He will be pretending to be a common man, a servant if he’s lucky. The prince’s servant if he’s really lucky. He is to infiltrate the castle of Sapphire and learn if they plan to declare war, yet again. He is sure that he will learn nothing and will be back in his bed within the week. Why would Sapphire want to declare war? The last war almost bankrupted them. And it’s not like there will be anything in Sapphire to make him want to stay there.  
By nightfall, Harry is showered and dressed in everyday Sapphire clothing. Black jeans and a deep blue peasant shirt. The clothing styles between Emerald and Sapphire differ greatly, with Emerald being the height of class and modernity, and Sapphire being, well, not. He looks at himself in the ornate mirror standing next to his bed, the shirt fits him very ill, it practically swallows him, and the jeans are uncomfortable to say the least.

 _Boy, am I going to miss velvet_ Harry thinks.

The people of Emerald wear beautiful shades of green, with delicate fabrics such as silk and velvet, their bodies are never bare of jewels or money. Even their more harsh fabrics, like cotton, are soft to the touch. Soft like air.  
Sapphire on the other hand is a mix of 21st Century fashion and medieval. Their shade range is small, as the Moonstone Kingdom coined the light blue shades, and therefore Onyx shared their black with Sapphire, as they deemed it unfair for Moonstone to choose blue. Sapphire wear deep blues, navies and royal blues in harsh materials such as denim or canvas. Sapphire has the ability to be all the Emerald is, if only they didn’t spend years going to war.  
Harry doesn’t blame them though, who wouldn’t want to live here? In this life of absolute luxury. Well, Harry doesn’t, but that’s beside the point.  
Emerald is the richest Kingdom, and it’s obvious. It’s all glitter and jewels. Sapphire is, by far, the poorest, all dirt and grass.

The royal car takes Harry to the border between the kingdoms, and stops. A royal car cannot be seen in Sapphire without a proper invitation, that would be considered a declaration of war.  
The inside is jade leather, the outside a shimmering emerald green, and the windows are too, tinted green. He’s close to being sick of the colour. Although, wouldn’t anyone be bothered if they only saw a few colours their whole life. Harry has heard of other colours, but he’s never seen many of them. He can’t even imagine what orange looks like.  
Harry thanks the driver and begins his walk over the border.

Due to the current peace, the border is no longer guarded. Before he steps foot into this neighbouring kingdom, he turns around and takes in the lush greenery of his kingdom. You see, there is an invisible shield between each kingdom, where you cannot see past it - as if the border were a mirror, therefore, once Harry is in Sapphire, he will no longer be able to run his eyes over the green hills and glistening sky, these borders are only removed between allied kingdoms, such as Diamond and Emerald.  
The grass glistens as if with mildew, but upon closer inspection you can tell that the grass itself is glistening as a real emerald would in the sun. The sky, is now a deep green - almost black - but that tint of green is still there. In the day, the sky is the palest of greens, as if the entire kingdom has a filter on it.  
The coldest kingdom of all is Onyx, the sky is always black, as if every hour were midnight. The most beautiful Kingdom - in others’ opinions, not Harry’s - is Opal, with a pearlescent sky, and rainbow grass that changes colour as you move.  
The ugliest kingdom - very much in Harry’s opinion - is Sapphire, with its pale blue dirt roads, and typical blue sky, with it’s poor people and horse drawn carriages for the rich.  
Nothing is equal in Sapphire, they can’t afford equality.  
But, nonetheless, Harry is excited to go. A change of scenery, of colour, of people. He’s going somewhere where no one knows who he is. The only thing that they’ll know is the colour of his eyes. And that excites Harry. A great new beginning.

Harry sighs and nods to himself, and with a deep breathe he crosses over the border. He can’t help the excitement that rushes through his body. It’s a what if? What if he finds those eyes? Will they recognise him?

Sapphire was exactly as he had expected, in front of him was a deep blue dirt road with fields and trees on either side. The blue grass didn’t sparkle the same way it did at home, the trees looked sadder than they should.  
He shrugs his shoulders and focuses on his mission, and just keeps walking. Blue eyes race across his mind and he urges the thought to disappear, but they don’t. They watch his every move and they wait. They’re waiting for Harry. And Harry walks that little bit quicker.  
He knows his walking is fast, his heart thumps with every step. His palms are sweaty and a smile plays on his lips. He sighs as breathes in the air, it feels cool, crisp. It feels blue. And it weirdly feels like home.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry walked for hours, he didn’t rest. He decided that he’ll rest when he gets there. It might not have been hours, but it definitely felt like it. His feet drag on the dried dirt and he feels his eyelids beg to flutter close.

The closer he gets to the heart of Sapphire, the less picturesque it gets. The dirt road gets wider, the grass gets duller and the trees disappear. Small buildings start to appear, the beginning of what some might call a city - Harry wouldn’t but that’s the best word for it. 

It’s strange, it’s almost as if being close to the glamour of Emerald had a physical effect on the nature of Sapphire. That’s how Harry decides to see it. 

It had been daylight for what felt like hours, and Harry could barely keep his eyes open. His feet start to drag behind him, his feet ache with every step and his calfs are burning. Suddenly he hears voices around him and shade covers his body. The people don’t look as poor as what he had expected, they just looked normal. Normal people going around their normal day. Jealousy made its way up his throat, a bitter taste on his tongue. That’s what he wanted, to live, to have a normal family. A normal life, where he didn’t matter. He didn’t want to have to spy or so be looked up to. He just wanted a life where people didn’t care who he was or what he was doing. 

Suddenly, a great castle meets him, and he cannot quite grasp how big it actually is. It’s great and stone. It’s a glistening denim blue, the window are large and Harry can just imagine a golden hour up in the attics, maybe curled up with a book and a pair of blue eyes. 

He is about to walk up the midnight blue steps when his knees give out from under him and his face meets to cold step. His face burns from the impact but he takes no notice of it, it felt good to feel something for once. 

Guards rush towards him as the world fades to black. He welcomes the abyss, maybe he’d see those blue eyes, but what he really wanted was just to rest. He was exhausted, and just needed to sleep. He wanted it to be dark, no colour for once in his life, just pure black where he can sleep. No aching, no disappointment upon waking. 

***

“Have you seen this man before? Is he alright? Will he recover?”

The voice was tinged with worry and it made Harry’s heart jump. 

“No sire, I have never seen him before. It was simply exhaustion.” 

A voice tells another. Blue eyes have yet again plagued his dreams, he does not know who these eyes belong to but he is determined to find out. They are most likely here, in Sapphire, but you can never be sure. They probably don’t even belong to a person, eyes that beautiful simply cannot exist. 

Harry’s eyes are a beautiful emerald, as were once Lizzie’s. His fathers eyes match Harry’s own. Lizzie’s eyes have not yet settled, they can’t seem to decide just yet, and if that continues until she reaches the throne, her true place will be in Opal. At which point, it will be Harry’s turn, his eyes should start to change any day now. He is sure his eyes will change, he’s never truly fit in with the values of Emerald, he’s hoping for Onyx; peaceful, sweet, forgiving. All words that describe Harry better. 

Harry opens his eyes and meets a set of pale green, they belong to a young man, not much older than Harry, his hair is shaggy and a deep brown. They both gasp, and Harry quickly sits up. 

“You’re from Emerald?” 

Harry blurts, and the man - the court doctor - nods. 

“As are you, what on Earth are you doing here?” 

He’s almost talking in a hushed voice, looking around. Harry looks to the floor, more to avoid the obvious panic that flashed in his eyes. 

“I’m new here and I need a job.” 

Harry looks around and notices no other person there, he wonders if he had dreamt the voice. It’s cold in the room, every surface is stone, a blue-tinged-grey. There are no windows, but it’s light enough with a singular light on the ceiling. He’s confused, and not to mention, exhausted. His request for a restful sleep was obviously denied.

“They won’t look kindly at you.” 

The man blurts, Harry nods, he knew this, but it still stings him having to hear it. 

“But, I know that the prince recently fired his servant and is desperate for another one.” 

Harry looks up at the doctor again and smiles, 

“Could you help me?”

The doctor is built like an Olympic athlete, and Harry wonders how this man is a doctor and not some kind of builder. His eyes are gentle, perhaps it’s the shade, but it’s probably the person. His voice is soft, but masculine. His demeanour is kind, calm. He feels safe.

Harry stands outside the crown prince’s chambers, waiting to be called inside, for what can only be described as an interview. He smiles at people as they walk past, who take one look at the colour of his eyes and practically run away. With some even shielding children’s eyes as their footsteps echo down the corridor. Harry sighs in frustration, dragging his hands down his exhausted face as he knows that he shouldn’t have agreed to do this, but it’s difficult to ignore his mother. He hears voices on the other side of the oak doors, they seem hushed, but that’s probably from the walls thickness. The doctor is doing Harry a great favour, and he can’t help but wonder if this favour will come for him later.

He feels guilty already, guilty for the betrayal he knows he has to commit. A betrayal he’s already committed. He wonders if the eyes know. And if they do, will they forgive him? And if they don’t, how could he ever ask for forgiveness?

“Enter.” 

A voice calls from inside and Harry’s heart suddenly starts to race; it’s a light sound, it reminds Harry of droplets of sun on a spring day. 

He pushes the large wooden door open and surveys the room. It’s multiple shades of a deep blue, one side of the room is full of floor to ceiling windows, with beautiful royal blue drapes. There is a grand fireplace on the wall to Harry’s right, which takes up the entire wall and the flames of which are too, blue. The bed is a four poster with the sheets seemingly thrown anywhere. 

The walls are stone, matching that of a medieval castle. And there is a long table directly in front of Harry with a chair at either end. Sitting on one said chair, near the fire is a young boy, no older than 25, with dark brown hair, styled upwards. He is wearing deep blue jeans and a black knitted jumper. He’s looking at the floor, and Harry silently urges him to raise his head. Aching to see his eyes. He doesn’t know why, but he’s immediately pulled to this man. The voice sounds familiar, but he doesn’t know where he’s heard it. 

The doctor, who is standing close to the fire, behind the prince, coughs at Harry, who curtly bows at the man in front of him. 

“Close the door.” 

Harry nods and does so quickly, he pauses as the door clicks shut, pressing his hand to the dark wood, he takes a deep breath and nod to himself, turning back around, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. 

Harry stands stiffly in front of the door, prepared to make a run for it at any given time. His hand is still touching the doorknob behind him, the cold metal freezing the sweat from his hands, unknowingly holding his breath. 

The man moves his chair away from the table agonisingly slow, allowing the chair to loudly scape across the stone floor. Harry has to hold in his wince. He makes eye contact with the doctor, who slowly shakes his head; a warning for Harry to stay still. The man moves off of his seat and walks up to Harry, his footsteps echoing in Harry’s mind. His eyes are still fixed on the floor, it’s beginning to frustrate Harry. 

Harry does not move his eyes from the man in front of him, not until they are face to face. Eye to eye. And then he realises why his heart beat so quickly before. He had heard that voice before. He has seen these eyes before. 

The eyes of a dream.

***  
  


Harry could not comprehend how easy it was to find those eyes, he blinks in astonishment. The eyes _exist_. He had stopped breathing, the prince seemed to have noticed, but made no indication of caring.

“So you’re from Emerald, then?” 

Harry nods, treading carefully as the man circles him like a vulture. The prince is known to be hotheaded - and that’s an understatement. 

“Why should I hire you?”

The prince looks him up and down, rolling his eyes. Harry doesn’t know what to say, he can barely think with the man so close, Harry can smell an odd concoction of vanilla and tobacco. It overwhelms him, he wants more. He looks around the room, trying for any thought to come to mind, but then he hears his own voice, and immediately winces at what he’s about to say, 

“Well, with all due respect sir, it doesn’t seem like you have many options.” 

Harry says and immediately mentally slaps himself. He never had to learn to think before speaking, and now he wishes he had. Very quickly, Harry starts to stumble over his words. 

“N-no, crap, sorry, er-”

A smile starts at the edges of the princes mouth, playfulness in his eyes.The eyes are sparkling, sending sunspots dancing around the room, a breath gets caught in Harry’s throat. 

“Oops?” 

Harry says, trying to fake innocence. The prince laughs, its a sound that made the sun shine brighter, and wrinkles appear next to his eyes. 

“Hi.” 

***

“What’s your name?” 

He asks delicately. This prince in front of Harry does not match the rumours of the arrogant, hotheaded, and irresponsible crown prince of Sapphire. The man in front of him was just that. A man. And he was the bloody embodiment of sunshine. 

“Harry, sir.” 

The prince smiled warmly, Harry could feel a redness burning at the tips of his ears and making its way to his cheeks, he drops his head, keen to avoid any further embarrassment.

“There is no need to call me sir, sire or your highness. Unless, of course, we are in public. Please, call me Louis.” 

Harry is suddenly taken aback, he snaps his head back up, unblinking blue eyes staring into his soul. 

“Does this mean I’m hired?”. 

Louis laughs and nods, it’s a hearty sound. The kind you’d think Santa would have, the redness returns but Harry doesn’t care. He beams at the prince. 

“Of course!”

Harry feels something, it feels almost like a pull, and it’s more than magnetic, more than a simple attraction. He’s pulled towards Louis, maybe it’s the dreams, maybe it’s the laughter, maybe it’s simple curiosity. But nonetheless, it’s there, and it worries Harry, well actually, it scares the shit out of him. Harry had always wondered who those eyes belonged to, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that it would be a prince. Especially a prince from a very hostile kingdom. And definitely not the prince from the enemy’s kingdom. 

Harry spent the rest of the day learning the duties of the Crown Princes servant. He was required to dress him, feed him and just really be there for him. An easy job, Harry thought. Well, it would’ve been an easy job, that is if feelings weren’t involved. 

The rest of the court staff refused to look him in the eye, and he heard whispers around him which all had an air of empathy for him. He tried to ignore them, just brush them off. Louis wasn’t a bad person. They didn’t know him. But one whisper in particular stuck with him; 

“Poor lad, doesn’t know what he’s getting himself in for.” 

The banquet of the evening gave Harry a strong idea of what those whispers were exactly about. 

The entire meal was spent with the King making some not-so-harmless jokes. Including many aimed at his apparent good-for-nothing son. Louis pretended to laugh the whole time, but Harry knew. Harry could see. Harry didn’t laugh. He saw four girls sitting around the king and Louis, and none of them laughed either. Harry knew very little about the royal family of Sapphire, the people of Emerald were only ever taught about the wars. Never the people. The oldest girl had white-blonde hair, obviously dyed. Harry wondered if she was trying to physically distant herself from her family, Harry had assumed that these girls were family. He made a mental note to ask Louis later. He often tried to catch Louis’ eye, but he refused to look at him, always looking at his plate or the king. It worried Harry. 

Towards the end of the night, Louis had glossy eyes that he continually wiped at. The white haired girl took his hand in hers and rubbed his back. Her eyes were on fire when she looked at the king, Harry immediately took a liking to her, she was easy to read.

That night, after the banquet and the jokes, Harry had to get Louis ready for bed. He wasn’t exactly excited to talk to him alone, but he wasn’t far off. He skipped up the stairs to Louis’ chambers, prepared to lift any sprits that needed to be lifted. He knocked on the door, and was greeted with a rather harsh;

“What?!”

“Sire?” 

Harry started carefully, “I’m here to get you ready for bed.” 

He opened the door, which was quite possibly a stupid idea. Louis was sitting in his chair, silver goblet in his hand, Harry noticed a ruby signet ring, _red_ , how did he have something red? Harry goes to open his mouth to ask but gets cut off by Louis’ words.

“You’re late.” 

Its all he says, he doesn’t look at Harry, he just stares at the wine in the goblet,

“I’m sorry, sire. I needed to help clean up.” 

Louis looks up at Harry and his eyes make Harry physically take a step back, his eyes wide with fear.

“I. Told. You. To. Call. Me. Louis.” 

And with that he throws the goblet at Harry, it’s a furious action, and it makes Harry’s heart jump. It misses, hits the wall and falls to the floor, loud enough for guards to knock at his door. Louis sends them away, and looks at Harry. There are obvious tears in his eyes but Harry chooses not to notice. 

“I need to get you ready for bed, Louis.” 

Harry spits the name and meets his eyes. Harry refuses to be mistreated. By anyone. His eyes have a fury in them that rarely ever come out, but it puts Louis in his place.

“That’s not necessary. You may go.” 

Louis says with a flick of the wrist, there’s an edge to his voice, but Harry can’t pinpoint it. 

“Sleep well.” 

Harry says, monotone, and leaves the chambers. 

Outside, he sighs, sliding down the double doors and he wonders why his name is such a big deal. And why Harry didn’t help, like he wanted to. How did Louis get under his skin so quickly and why does he even care? And how in the world did that escalate so quickly? There seems to be something alight between them. His skin is in fire whenever they’re close. It freaks Harry out, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. And he wonders if Louis feels it too. 


	4. Chapter 4

The next day Harry wakes up with an obvious hole in his mood. He doesn’t like being unkind. And he felt like he was unkind to Louis when he needed to be as kind as possible. He sighed, and rubbed his eyes of any sleep. He didn’t know what he had expected. Had he really expected for him to meet those eyes and to live happily ever after? This life isn’t a fairytale. Harry may be a prince, but he’s not a Disney one. 

By the time Harry was dressed, it was 7:30am, so he made his way to the kitchens to gather Louis’ breakfast. At 8am he woke Louis up. They hadn’t discussed how best to wake him up so Harry decided to go with the old fashioned open the curtains, and;

“Rise and Shine!”

“Fuck off.” 

Was the reply he got, and unfortunately Harry was not in the mood to be bad mouthed so he marched over to the bed, and in one swift action, ripped the covers off of a sleeping prince. It was only once he had done so had he realised that he may have made a mistake. Louis immediately turned over so he was laying on his back, arms outstretched, glaring at Harry. The man in front of him was shirtless - with pyjama bottoms on, and black ink covering his torso. Harry stood over the bed, mouth agape. 

“You have tattoos?” 

Louis’ mouth twitched, wanting to smile, but instead he softened his glare. _Like what you see?_ is what he wanted to say, but not now. Neither seemed to be in the mood and they weren’t close enough to be joking around like that.

“Yeah? Is it a big deal?” 

Harry shook his head quickly, eyeing Louis’ body carefully, refuting the ache to reach out a hand and trace the lines.

“No! I just didn’t realise that princes could...” 

Harry was breathing softly, he had always wanted a tattoo, artwork on his body forever. He loved the idea, but he just assumed that it wasn’t allowed. Maybe he should’ve just asked. Louis looked down at his bare chest, somewhat self conscious, not realising that Harry had begun to daydream while still staring. 

“Do you not like them?” 

He asks quietly, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes, he wants to cover his body with his arms, his duvet; anything that might make Harry stop staring.

“I love them,” Harry whispers, snapping out of his thoughts, “Do they mean anything?” 

Harry isn’t thinking about what he’s saying. His eyes are almost glazed over, just thinking of what tattoo he would get. Louis suddenly looks startled. 

“No! There’s absolutely no meaning behind them!”

Harry slowly nods, eyebrows raised, suddenly aware of the situation. 

“Okay.. I believe you, thousands wouldn’t.” 

Harry walks away from the bed shaking his head, looking past his shoulder at Louis as he throws a shirt on.

“What the fuck was that?” 

He whispers to himself, brows furrowed, his cheeks have turned a bright red, and he’s praying to anyone that Louis didn’t see, or at least didn’t notice. 

“Time for breakfast!” 

Harry chirps, turning to face Louis, who makes his way to the table, somewhat begrudgingly, his feet stomping on the cold stone, grumpy that he got woken up too early.

Harry stands around waiting for Louis to finish his breakfast, he looks up at the portrait above the fireplace, that he apparently hadn’t realised was there. 

There stands a beautiful woman with long black hair and surprisingly deep ruby eyes. _Ruby!_ He’s taken aback by her beauty, and notes that she could rival even his mother. She’s wearing a ball gown that perfectly matches those eyes and beside her, with a hand on his shoulder, is a small child, smiling brightly. 

“Who are they?” 

Harry asks, again without thinking - something he really needs to work on. Louis turns around and moves to stand next to Harry. 

“My mum. She died a few years ago. She’s at peace now.” 

Louis smiles sadly and looks to the floor. Harry smiles, still looking at the painting, he turns back to Louis pointing at his hand. 

“The ring, you have it for her?” 

Louis smiles sadly, touching the place where the ring should be and nods, looking up at the portrait. 

A few moments pass between them, and Harry builds up enough courage to ask the things he needs the answers to. 

“Who were the girls last night?” 

Louis looks to the floor, he looks almost ashamed. 

“My sisters. I have two more but they’re too young to be at a banquet.” 

Harry breathes out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Wow, six siblings! I can barely deal with my sister!” 

Harry laughs, and Louis smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Everything about him is sad, and Harry doesn’t know what to do. 

“Why do you want me to call you Louis?” 

Harry doesn’t know why he asks this, and he wished he could take it back the minute he’s said it. Louis doesn’t move, his eyes are fixed on the stone tiles beneath his feet, his hair falling softly in front of his eyes.

“Because the last thing my mother ever said to me was ‘You’re my son before you are a prince.’ I’m Louis before my title.” 

He explains, he talks slowly, obviously trying to control his breath. And Harry leaves it there, he refuses to push Louis any further. Looking at him now, Harry sees him, he’s still just a boy, a boy without his mother, a boy with a father who obviously doesn’t love him. Harry wants to move closer, wants to be there for him. But he stops himself before he can move. He can’t get attached, he has to remember what he’s there for. He’s found Louis, that’s one question answered, now it’s time to do his duty. And in that, Louis doesn’t matter.

Four weeks later and Harry spends the day working on his mission as Louis has to spend the day in meetings, so does Harry. Infiltrating Sapphire may be easier than Harry thought, however these meetings are simply discussions on whether Louis is ready for the throne. At which time Louis says that he IS NOT. And Harry would not argue with that. 

The four weeks were full of busyness, he was forever running from room to room, waking up at the crack of dawn. He was so tired, but somehow, it was worth it. He finally felt normal, he had routine that wasn’t him doing the bare minimum. He had a routine where he wasn’t simply the spare. 

Harry and Louis very quickly fell into a routine, and Harry learns something new about Louis everyday. Today it was that Louis didn’t like the colour of his eyes, he wished to have something different - gold, or maybe amber, and has wished for ruby, just like his mother. Harry agreed that having blue, green and brown was boring, they were the colours of the old world, and when some had crystal white eyes, well it just wasn’t fair. Louis looks at Harry differently when it’s just them, or when he thinks nobody can see him. Louis feels seen by Harry, and he likes it.

In the meetings, they come to talk about the laws of Sapphire. You see, the whole country has a few laws that every kingdom needs to stick by, such as crime being illegal. But each kingdom has its own laws, with some being very forward thinking and others being well, backwards thinking. Sapphire is unfortunately one of the latter kingdoms. The king begins the talk with saying how he plans on making homosexuality illegal, and not just illegal but the penalty for which will be death. Harry tries to watch the reactions of everyone but instead his head begins to spin. His breath hitches and his lungs can no longer expand. 

Suddenly Louis is watching Harry very carefully, concern warping his face. Harry manages to focus on his breathing and calms himself down. He looks at the floor, feeling Louis eyes burn into his head. His hands are shaking and his throat is dry, he can’t bring himself to look at those blue eyes. 

By the time Harry has a grip back on reality, the law has been passed and homosexuality is officially illegal on penalty of death in Sapphire. Harry starts to shake uncontrollably, realising that his life is at risk. He wants to run, but what would he say? What would people think? Would they know? Does Louis know? Does Louis care?

Once the meeting is over Harry returns to Louis’ chambers. On the walk there Harry is obviously dazed and Louis catches wind of this. Once inside his chambers Louis locks the door and looks at Harry in the eyes, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“What happened in there?” 

Harry blinks into reality and just stares back into Louis’ eyes. 

“How can loving someone be illegal?” 

Harry asks, heart thumping, tears threatening to fall. He’s not thinking. How could he? How can this be happening? Louis takes a step back from Harry and looks at the floor. 

“Are you gay?” 

Louis asks finally, he swallows hard, he can feel tears sting the back of his eyes. Harry’s breath hitches once again and he refuses to answer. He is relieved a little, Louis has the guts to at least ask the question. But he will not lie. Not about his sexuality. But if he admits to being anything but straight, he could die. He doesn’t know Louis. Not properly. They don’t talk about things like this. This prince could agree with the law. He could hate Harry. He probably does. But Harry will not lie. Not about something that makes him who he is. He is proud of who he is. He will not lie. Harry can’t look at Louis in the eyes, he can feel how close they are to each other, but he won’t give himself away. 

“I’m not anything.” 

***

Louis stood looking at Harry, his mouth was agape, there’s an anger in the pit of his stomach, and Louis is disgusted by his own disgust.

“Are you into girls?” 

Louis asks, there’s an angry edge to his voice. It’s an edge that punches Harry in the face. It slices him in half. Harry nods, he refuses to meet Louis’ eyes. Those are the eyes that Harry’s life rest upon. 

“And boys? Do you like boys?” 

Harry doesn’t move. Louis sounds almost desperate. Like he needs to know. Like he cares. Harry refuses to answer this. Why does he need to know? Everyone has their secrets. This question begins to anger Harry. With all the strength and courage that he possesses he raises his head and stares into Louis’ eyes. He stares for so long that Louis fears he will see his soul. 

“Why does it matter?” 

Harry spits the words at Louis. His eyes have fury mapped all over them. 

“Loving someone is not wrong.” 

Louis looks to the floor and moves towards Harry. Disgust has wrapped itself around hisfeatures, he looks into Harry’s eyes, searching for something, _anything_. 

“I’m afraid I need to have you arrested.” 

Harry laughs at this, it’s a deep laugh. The kind of laugh you hear as you descend into hell. It sends chills through Louis, his nerve endings react to this laugh. Harry slowly moves closer to Louis and leans down to whisper into his ear, 

“You want to arrest me? Then YOU arrest me.” 

Harry growls into his ear. His hands are shaking with the pure anger that is seething out of him. Louis tries to push Harry away, but he doesn’t move. 

“Come on, you can do better than that. You agree with this law? You better get used to arresting people like me.” 

He spits the word. Me. _People like me_. His hands are shaking. As is his breath. He is angry, angrier than he’s ever been. It scares him. He presents his hands to Louis, wrists together. He’s trying to get a rise out of the prince and it’s working. 

“Of course I don’t fucking agree but it’s the law!” 

Louis yells at him, using all his might to push Harry away, with Harry actually stumbling backwards this time. The breath has been knocked out of him, he doesn’t agree with it? Then what the _fuck_ is going on?

There’s a knock at Louis’ bedroom door and a guards voice follows. 

“Your highness? Is everything alright? I heard shouting.” 

Louis quickly opens the door and explains that everything is fine. Harry stands shocked, and more than a little pissed,

“You didn’t order them to arrest me?” 

Louis shakes his head and looks to the floor. 

“I’m so confused.” 

Louis sits on his chair and puts his head in his hands, pulling gently at the strands.

“Why does everyone think it’s wrong?” 

Louis asks, Harry decides that Louis is just thinking out loud rather than asking Harry. 

“Is it wrong?” 

Louis now looks up at Harry expectantly, Harry lets his eyes soften as he realises exactly what Louis is dealing with. He moves towards Louis and crouches down, one hand steadying him on the table, the other resting on Louis’ knee. His anger has evaporated. Looking at Louis, now, like this, softens every fibre of him, 

“How could it be wrong? But it only matters if _you_ think it’s wrong.” 

Harry talks and takes one of Louis’ hands in his own, 

“Something so pure? So unbiased? So beautiful? How could something like that ever be wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis whispers back. “But, I can’t change.”

Suddenly Louis rips his hand out of Harry’s and stands up, chair pushed out behind him. Harry falls from the movement, hand slipping off of the table. 

“Don’t touch me!” 

It’s almost a scream, tears are falling, sobs are bouncing off the walls. Harry moves slowly, he walks towards Louis, who is now crouching in the corner, head tucked into his knees. Harry kneels down and strokes his hair, he can feel the sobs moving through Louis’ body. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

It’s a sob, but Harry doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop until Louis stops crying. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Harry shakes his head, a gesture to say that it doesn’t matter. 

Louis stands up and gestures for Harry to start getting him ready for tonight’s banquet. Harry nods but can’t help the confusion and sympathy that has wrapped itself around him, he swallows hard and decides to allow Louis to forget this situation. Pushing himself off the floor, he sighs and moves to the wooden wardrobe next to the bed, taking out a navy shirt and midnight blue jeans. 

“Get dressed.” 

He hands the clothes to Louis and walks towards the door, 

“Harry?” 

He doesn’t turn around, he just shakes his head and turns the doorknob, leaving the prince alone. He doesn’t know why he does it, he wants one thing only; to be with Louis. 

***

At the banquet, the room is full of chatter, a complete opposite to the coldness of a few hours before. The king stands up and taps a knife against his glass. A hush falls across the room, and everyone stops whatthey are doing. 

“Attention! I am pleased to announce that the law against homosexuality has been passed!” 

The King exclaims, and cheers erupt throughout the room. Harry is watching carefully and can tell that most of these cheers are not meaningful. People do not support this law, they just can’t say so. It calms Harry. At least the whole kingdom isn’t homophobic. The crowd continues with their dinner, and Louis catches Harry’s eye, a single tear makes it way down his cheek, and the blonde sister leans over and kisses it away, she rests her forehead against his. They both smile sadly and continue with their dinners. Fake smiles all round for this family. And Harry wishes he could do something about it. But he can’t, not yet. 

The king catches Harry’s eye, and there seems to be a warning in his eyes. It says for Harry to stay away, to not interfere. Harry just glared back, he breathes heavily as he feels his anger snake back up, he thinks of ways he could kill the king. Poison? Drowning? Smothered in his sleep? Whatever it takes. He looks to Louis, who shakes his head, almost as if he knows what Harry is thinking. Harry wonders who Louis is to him. What are they to each other? Whatever it is, it’s real and it’s alive. And it’s burning.


	5. Chapter 5

A week passed, it was full of small talk, fake smiles and harsh words. Louis didn’t smile, and the banquets were full of silent tears and fake laughs. Louis hadn’t said a word to Harry since the argument, they just moved around each other silently. It felt wrong for both of them. They should be laughing, joking, talking. Harry was there for Louis, and suddenly it was like they were strangers. Harry still hadn’t met the princesses, he assumed the king was very strict with who they knew. 

Finally it was Harry’s first day off. He honestly hadn’t expected to get one, but Louis seemed to need the time too. Harry walked around Sapphire for a while, he took in the shades of blue, the happy smiles of the people, the stern glares of palace guards. He walked circles around the castle and then circles around himself. He wondered to himself whether all of this was worth it. Did he need to do this for his kingdom? Was putting his life on the line worth it? Was betraying Louis worth it?

He was walking around in a daydream seemingly questioning his own existence when he stumbled upon a small tattoo parlour, it was a bright blue and had tattoo examples on the outside. Harry - without thinking - walked inside, he was in awe of the artwork that surrounded him, and he decided in that moment, he wanted one. 

A woman came up to him and her eyes lingered on his body. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Here for a tat?” 

Harry nodded at her, and she allowed him to continue to browse the options. His mind betrayed him by returning to the image of Louis’ bare torso with the few tattoos that peaked Harry’s interest. He thought of _it is what it is_ and the butterfly that accompanied it, but then he sees an image that he absolutely falls in love with. He calls over the woman who agrees with his choice. He makes a mental note to return in a few weeks time to get another. It didn’t hurt as much he thought, it helped to centre his thoughts. He focused on the pain, on the vibrations of the needle. It gave him time to not think. His mind was empty for the first time in a very long time. He didn’t get the design he had initially seen. Instead, he thought of something Louis had said, something that he needed to be reminded of. 

That way he would always be linked to Louis as well as to who he was. He knew it was odd to want to be forever linked to someone he barely knew, who wasn’t talking to him, but it felt right. There was something telling him to be with Louis now, to think of him while he was still here. So he did, he listened. When it was done, he looked at the blood swirling and sighed peacefully. There was something about a wound that would heal to be art. To be a link to Louis. Something beautiful about that, don’t you think?

It’s the evening when Harry wakes from a nap, looks at the clock on the wall, curses under his breath and starts rushing around his servant quarters. He is late to serve the banquet that started 10 minutes ago. He grabs a boot and hops his way to the throne room. He emerges - somewhat sheepishly, praying that Louis hasn’t noticed. He had. And the second his eyes find Harry, there is just empty-ness, no emotion, not even disappointment. And Harry wonders if Louis needs help. Harry wants a reaction, even a small one. Something, anything to tell him that Louis cared. He tries his hardest to catch Louis’ eye, but in reality, he could be waving a hand in front of his eyes and he still wouldn’t look at him; to Louis, the room was invisible. The mutters around him were simply the song to his life, they didn’t exist. He didn’t exist.

Whispering begins behind Harry and before he has the chance to eavesdrop the King stands and a hush falls over the room. It’s still, the air itself is electric, and Harry’s heart starts to beat quicker than normal, sweat forming at his temples, his eyes still on Louis. _Look at me_.

“Thank you all for being here tonight. As tonight is very special for not only my kingdom but for the kingdom of Heliodor too. For, as of tonight, our two kingdoms will be forever allied. Please welcome,” 

The doors to the throne room open to a group of beautiful guests with golden eyes, Harry holds his breath as he watches, it almost happens in slow motion, 

“The royal family of Heliodor, and my future daughter-in-law!” 

The crowd falls into unrivalled joy, with congratulations being passed from person to person. Harry looks to Louis, whose eyes are searching the crowd, but are soulless. 

“Excuse me, darling.” 

A voice behind Harry comes, it twinkles, like fairy lights on a winter night. A beautiful voice that matches a beautiful woman. He turns to see a girl, not much older than him, dressed in golden robes with long, silky, brown waves and golden eyes. He knows her, he has heard of her beauty, and he knows exactly who this woman is.

Eleanor, Princess of Heliodor, the yellow kingdom. 

He looks back to Louis whose eyes are unreadable, his face expressionless. He almost looks bored, but Harry knows that he is angry. There’s an air about him that screams bloody murder. And he thinks everyone can see it too. 

***

Harry tore his eyes away from the breathtaking woman standing behind him to look for Louis. Once their eyes meet a flash of something passes through Louis’ eyes, but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone again. _Future daughter-in-law_. Those words echo in Harry’s mind, when did Louis get engaged? Why didn’t he tell Harry? 

Louis slowly approaches Harry, eyes blank. Once in front of him, he bows to the princess, and plasters on a smile so fake that it makes Harry feel physically ill, 

“Ah, my dear! We finally meet!” 

Harry is confused as to why Louis is saying this, until a voice replies;

“My love!”

Eleanor pushes past Harry to throw her arms around Louis’ neck. As he embraces her, Louis glares at Harry over her shoulder, and in a low tone, growls,

“Leave.” 

Harry returns to his chambers, he did not want to see any more acting from Louis. It made him sick to his stomach. He thought he knew him. He thought they were friends. Obviously he was wrong. He needs to focus on his mission. The sooner he finds out information, the sooner he can leave, and erase any thoughts of a certain Louis Tomlinson. But those eyes plague his mind, why was he so empty? That’s not Louis. He has emotion, maybe even more than most people. When he’s happy, you just know. There’s a feeling, there’s sunshine even in winter. He’s a cloudless sky in the height of summer. But when he’s sad, you can see it. He can’t hide it. He’s easily aggravated, he’s a grey sky before the lightning strikes. He’s the rain hitting the river. But he’s never nothing. Never empty. But today, today he was. He was someone else altogether. His mouth being forced into a smile. His eyes betraying that smile. It was like fog, Harry couldn’t see. 

Once Harry had eaten his dinner he makes his way to Louis’ chambers, he takes his time, Louis can wait. He knocks once and enters. Louis is again on his chair, the blue flames from the fire light up the room, and give Louis a certain calm demeanour. 

“Where have you been?” 

“Thought you’d want to spend as much time as possible with your fiancé. So I had my dinner.”

Louis rolls his eyes and smirks, he looks up at Harry through his eyelashes, 

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy?” 

It’s now Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, but there’s a redness burning on his cheeks that betrays his words, 

“No. Just want to know when I’ll actually be needed.” 

The tone of Harry’s voice slaps Louis in the face as his eyes look into Harry’s. They are searching for something. Anything to tell Louis that he doesn’t need to go through with this. But he doesn’t find it, or more accurately, Harry doesn’t let him find it. Harry relaxes his body, his Louis is back, or at least fighting his way back, 

“We are going on a picnic tomorrow, I need you to pack me some food.” 

Harry nods, his walls rising. Louis can practically see Harry shifting Louis out, he’s not just hurt. There’s something else there. Something that Louis can’t quite find, 

“Anything else?” 

“Yes. You’ll be coming with us.” 

Harry begins choking on his own spit and Louis smirks. He sighs, resuming the his unfeeling, stony face, 

“Yes, sire.” 

Louis flinches at the words, glaring at the boy in front of him and Harry turns on his heel, leaving an almost furious but completely hurt prince in his wake. Harry isn’t happy to hurt Louis, but there’s emotion. It may be negative, but it’s there. It’s there because of Harry. Louis is still in there, he hasn’t disappeared. And that made Harry happy. It felt wrong for Harry to be happy, especially at the cost of Louis. But he needed the feeling back, he needed the real Louis back, and he’d do that anyway possible.

The following morning, Harry wakes up early in order to prepare the picnic. 

He packed fruits and cheeses and meats. He added a bottle of wine and two glasses. He packed some water for himself as well as a snack, who knows how long this picnic was going to take. He looked around for a basket of some sort to pack these delights in and accidentally backs into a young, blonde, kitchen boy. 

“Careful!” 

This new face chuckles. He has an accent but Harry cannot quite pinpoint it, but considering the colouring of his eyes, Harry concludes he comes from the Morganite region, his eyes a soft rose. 

“I’m so sorry!” 

Harry exclaims, already drawn in by those wonderful eyes, which seem to be returning the thought, curiosity peaking. 

“Harry, I’m the princes servant,” 

He extends a hand, exposing his new tattoo, the boy has an amused smile playing on his face as he admires the tattoo. He takes Harry’s hand in a firm shake, 

“Niall, kitchen boy.” 

Niall helps Harry to find a basket to pack his picnic in and they talk before Harry goes to meet Louis. 

“You’re not from around here then, eh?” 

The pink eyes are still full of curiosity, and Harry cannot say that he dislikes it, he feels seen. A playful smile seems to forever be plastered on this boys face, and Harry can see a beautiful friendship beginning to blossom. 

“Green eyes,” Harry shrugs, as if that is all the information he needs to give, 

“Morganite, right?” 

Niall nods, a flash of sadness seems to pass but Harry barely catches it. 

“Lost me Pa about a month ago, needed a change.” 

Niall explains briefly and Harry doesn’t push the subject. They seem to match, Harry and Niall. There’s something immediately between them, not one ounce of awkwardness. Harry feels comfortable and safe around Niall, it’s a new feeling. It’s not the intensity of Louis, it’s softer and peaceful. It’s the pitter patter of rain against a window on a summers night, compared to the storm that is Louis.

Soon enough Harry is leaving the kitchens and his new friend for a day of sunshine and heterosexuality. Harry meets Louis and his apparent fiancé, as well as a sheepish girl, who shares the rose eyes of the kitchen boy,at the front steps, there are four horses prepared. 

“Do I need to buy you a watch?” Louis sighs, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“You say that as if it wouldn’t come out of my pay.” 

Harry rolls his eyes and Louis huffs, something in their friendship had been off for a while and neither knows why. Eleanor giggles and they all mount the horses, riding into a deep blue forrest. 

The forrest is one that takes Harry’s breath away, any ugliness that Harry once believed was all Sapphire possessed melts away. The grass glistens as if made of real sapphires, the trees mask the sky above them, only allowing a few streaks of sunlight through. Louis’ eyes seem to glow as they make their way to a small clearing. Each dismount and Harry gives Louis the basket, deciding to keep his distance from the couple. 

Harry turns to walk away, not planning to stray too far, but far enough that he won’t throw up if they begin to kiss. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Louis raises his eyebrows at Harry who turns on his heel, somewhat stunned. 

“Er, well, I thought I’d give you two some privacy.” 

Harry lowers his voice so that Eleanor doesn’t overhear, although he doubts she’s even paying attention as she seems far too involved in a giggling conversation she’s having with who Harry can only guess is her maid. Louis chokes on Harry’s words and his eyes show a sense of terror. 

“You can’t leave.” Louis’ eyes beg Harry, leaving his completely confused. 

“Please.” 


	6. Chapter 6

Harry shakes his head, 

“Sorry, but I think you should be alone with her.” 

Harry knew this was mean and would most likely drive the wedge between them deeper but he didn’t care. Louis didn’t tell him he was engaged. And Harry is his servant, he is acting the way any servant would. But why does it hurt so much? 

“Fine. Piss off.” 

Harry looks at Louis, pleading with him to look at him, but he doesn’t. Louis’ eyes are fixed on the floor, set in a scowl. So Harry walks away, and doesn’t look back. He sits a bit away from them, eating his snack and drinking his water. 

“Wanker.”

He mutters the word under his breath, he didn’t mean it but Louis just had a way of getting under his skin. On occasion he will hear giggles and full blown laughter, it drives him insane. Why can’t he make Louis laugh like that? He picks at the grass aggressively, the only outlet he can have. He wants to be over there, but not with her. He wants to be her. He wants to be pretty with golden eyes and long wavy hair. He wishes he had her laugh and her voice. Anything that meant Louis would see him. 

The girl with the pink eyes is sitting a little way away from them too, but close enough to hear the conversation. Harry notes that her eyes look sad, she laughs when Eleanor laughs, and smiles when she talks. At every touch between the Louis and Eleanor, she winces and at every break she beams. If Eleanor ever speaks to her directly, well, then everything was right in the world. Harry saw her, he read her like a book. She broke his heart, but she never saw him looking. She was focused on Eleanor, the way he is focused on Louis. But isn’t that it? What love is? The way you look when you think no one is watching you, those reflexes you can’t help when someone touches your person. The eyes that sparkle when they look at you; that jump of the heart when they touch you. It’s more than a feeling, your body is physically in love with someone, your nerve are electrified when they’re near. _That’s what love is._

Harry has been in Sapphire a total of 1 month and 2 days, and he has learnt nothing. Nothing except the King is homophobic and his son is very conflicted, and even more confused. Harry misses Emerald, he misses his mother, father, even Elizabeth. He misses the green, a colour he can only see in the mirror. But why would he want to look in the mirror when he’s failed this badly? And when he continues to hurt people in order to do it?

Harry is deep in thought when he feels a tap on his shoulder, he looks back, jumping. A pair of rose eyes stare back, platinum hair messy atop his head. 

“Niall?” The boy nods and sits next to Harry. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Niall brings out a bagful of sandwiches and bottles of water. 

“Realised you’d been out here a while, and you didn’t pack enough food for yourself. It’s not like he’s-“ he gestures towards Louis with his head, “going to feed ya. Besides, I’m on my break. Here.” 

He offers Harry a cheese sandwich which Harry takes graciously, thanking him enormously. He can feel a pair of eyes on him. Eyes that haunt his dreams as well as his days. Blue eyes that make Harry’s heart beat quicker. Harry meets the eyes, and Louis doesn’t look away. 

His eyes are bluer than Harry has ever seen, they’re gleaming with every blink. Harry’s eyes are burning, signalling to him that his are just as bright. His heartbeat quickens to the point that he thinks he might have a heart attack. Neither look away, they can’t, Harry wants to, he urges his eyes to flick to the grass, but they don’t. They’re stuck on Louis, and Louis’ are stuck on Harry. 

Suddenly, the world around them swells, the blues blur, Harry can’t hear Niall anymore. His heartbeat is in his ears, and he thinks he might be sick. The world around them suddenly explodes in colour. Any and all colours, there’s greens intertwined with blues, reds with yellows, pinks with oranges. 

_Once green eyes find blue, only then can we be united once more._

A voice echoes in Harry’s mind, and he squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them the world is blue again, Niall is still talking, as is Eleanor. But one thing is different. Louis is looking at him. And Harry knows that Louis heard the same thing. 

Harry goes back to his conversation with Niall, he asks about Morganite, but those colours keep reminding him of what just happened. He keeps looking over to Louis, and every time he’s already looking back. Something has now been forever changed between them, but Harry just wished he knew what it was. Who is Louis? And why is he so relieved to have found him?

***

Two hours later they return to the castle and Harry makes his way to the court doctor immediately, determined to get to the bottom of the obvious psychological break he just had. Louis tries to call after Harry multiple times but each time Harry just walked faster, eyes fixed on his steps.

He bangs on a door, confusion wrecking his brain, his eyes are barely holding in the tears that threaten to fall at any given moment. 

The doctor opens his door and immediately has a frustrated expression. 

“Ah, so you’re back then? How was the picnic?” 

Harry barges bast the doctor and stands in the middle of the room, it’s a jarring mix of medieval and modern health equipment. 

“I need to know something,” Harry begins, he pauses to take a deep breath, steadying himself, “Is there a tale of two kingdoms uniting the country?” 

Harry asks, and he realises that now he’s said it aloud, it sounds ridiculous. He sounds insane, of course there isn’t a bloody prophec- 

“Yes.” 

_Oh._ The word rings in Harry’s ears, it bounces off of the walls and back into itself, his heartbeat mixes with the word, and his breaths speed up. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s old-“

“I don’t care.” 

The doctor sighs and nods, he motions for Harry to sit, who complies. 

“It is said that one day, when everything is at its bleakest, two people from opposing kingdoms will find each other-“

The doctor stops to see the confusion and concentration on Harry’s face. He sighs and takes a seat beside Harry. 

“Okay, so before this country was split, it was whole, and the King of the time - Arthur had a servant who was known as the greatest sorcerer to walk the Earth, yes?” 

Harry nods, thankful for the mini history lesson. 

“Well Merlin also had the ability to see into the future, a rare power even then. This prophecy was his,” 

He glances at Harry who is still listening intently and nodding along. 

“He knew what this country would come to, he knew of the kingdoms and the hatred that would come. But he saw hope. He said that around the thousandth anniversary of the creation of colour, green eyes would find the blue that makes them whole. He prophesied that these two were soulmates, and when they unite, as will the country.” 

Harry let out the breath he was holding. Everything he feared the doctor would say, he did. Harry’s mind was racing at 100 miles an hour. There was a silence when the doctor finished talking, a deadly silence. Neither liked it, but Harry finally cleared his throat and started to talk. 

“I have questions.” 

The doctor nods and gestures for Harry to ask away, thankful for the break in silence.

“Did he mention the genders of them?” 

He didn’t even pause to think, he had been taught this for years and knew the story inside out.

“No, all he knew about them physically was green eyes and blue.” 

Harry nods, somewhat disappointed - that could be anyone. 

“How about an age?” 

The doctor nods, “There would be two years’ between them.” 

Harry allows his heart to beat quicker, adrenaline beginning to pump. 

“Did he say what would happen when they met?” 

The doctor looks at Harry confused, more looking for an answer than confused at the question. 

“He did.. it’s not well known, but I believe he said that the two will meet very quickly once green has started the search. But blue is very hesitant, and their love is unmistakable, it just takes a while to come out. But once they truly see one another, the colours of possibility will unfold.” 

_Oh great, a fucking riddle._ Harry nods, and moves to get up. He makes his way to the door, the doctor close behind. Before leaving, Harry turns to face the sage green eyes. 

“I’m Harry.” He extends his hand for the doctor to shake, 

“I know. Liam.” 

The doctor takes the hand, and then bows his head and loudly proclaims, 

“Your Highness.” 


	7. Chapter 7

Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat, and any colour in his face melts away. Liam chuckles.

“What? You thought I didn’t know? I’m literally from your kingdom.” 

His light green eyes roll and Harry feels like the biggest idiot on the island. Liam claps a hand on Harry’s back, and Harry lets out a stifled laugh. 

“Do me a favour?” Liam nods, “Don’t treat me like a prince.” Liam laughs yet again, 

“Not in this kingdom I won’t. You ain’t shit here.”

Harry laughs at this and shrugs. He’s not wrong. Liam is warm, that’s the only way Harry can describe him. It’s like being hugged when you talk to him. His laugh is soft and sweet. He’s Harry’s personal living teddy bear.

When Harry leaves Liam he immediately gets a certain determination to set things straight. He marches to Louis’ chambers, praying that Eleanor isn’t in there too and quietly knocks on the door. 

“Harry?” 

Comes a quiet voice, sounding close to tears. 

“I’m here.” 

He’s talking into the wood and can hear a shuffle of quiet footsteps. The door opens to show a red eyed Louis, and Harry’s heart cracks so loudly that he fears Louis heard it. Louis moves to the side so that Harry can enter, he hears the door click shut behind him, and before he can turn to face him, two hesitant but strong arms wrap around his waist and a head nuzzles into the back of his neck. 

“Louis?”

All Harry gets in reply is a mumble so Harry concludes to stay still and allow whatever is happening to run its course. 

He places his own hands delicately over Louis’ and feels the prince snuggle in closer. After a few minutes of standing like this, the arms retract and the head moves. Harry gets a shiver from the loss of contact. Louis moves to face Harry and stares at him for a while. 

“Did you hear it too?” 

“Hear what?” 

“In the forrest. Green eyes and blue eyes?” 

Harry tears his eyes away from the blue, and after a battle of possible outcomes, Harry decides on:

“What are you talking about?” 

It’s harsher than Harry meant but he’s just as freaked out, possibly more, since he thinks the now disappointed eyes in front of him may belong to his soulmate. Harry never believed in soulmates. What’s there to believe in? One person out of 7 billion that is the other half of you? That is made for you? No, he doesn’t believe in them. 

But there’s a boy standing in front of him, a boy who had bright blue eyes, a boy with the tattoos, a boy who can’t change, a boy who is asking for a soulmate. And Harry is standing there, refusing to give him his soulmate. And it kills him. 

Harry doesn’t know why, but he’s angry. He’s angry at the law that won’t allow him to be with Louis. He’s angry that Louis is his soulmate. Angry that he seems to have no bloody control over his own life. His skin is pleading to go to Louis, to touch him. He wants to tell him, but what then? They can’t be together. He wouldn’t put Louis in that kind of danger. But looking at Louis now, he wants to risk it all. And he would. He’d risk his life just for one touch. One kiss. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?” 

Harry blurts, and Louis’ eyes flick up to meet him, tears beginning to fall. 

“I didn’t know. I was told an hour before the announcement. There’s a celebration ball tomorrow.” 

He looks to the floor and in that moment Harry thinks he looks perfect. He looks brave, and strong and beautiful. Harry, without thinking, wraps his arms fully around Louis’ shoulders and doesn’t let go until Louis has put his arms around him. Which he does, and quite quickly. Then he sobs. He sobs into Harry’s chest, and the movements wreck even Harry’s body. Eventually the sobs stop and Harry hears Louis say, 

“Don’t leave me.” 

“Never.” 

It’s a promise he can’t make, but he does. He shouldn’t, he knew it would come back to haunt him, but he can’t break Louis. Not like that. Not now.

*** 

Louis steps back and wipes his eyes. He is about to talk when he notices the black ink on Harry’s wrist. He grabs his arm and traces the letters on the outside of his wrist. 

“I can’t change.” 

It’s barely a whisper, but Harry can feel the emotion looming, Louis continues to trace the letters, fingers barely touching Harry’s skin. The tattoo is still raised, still scarring. And it fits, because it’s no longer an open wound, but it’s not quite healed. And Harry can’t help but think the same of Louis. 

Louis’ eyes have glazed over, tears pricking the blue. There is so much Harry wants to say, he has questions, he has fears, and most of all he wants to tell him that from today onwards, he will never be alone. Because Harry has finally found his person and he will die before he loses him. But he doesn’t. He wraps his arms around Louis again. They stand in a frozen embrace for many minutes. Words left unsaid. But somehow they both know. They just know. 

Harry had to serve the banquet yet again that evening. As he walked, pouring drinks, invisible to everyone, he could feel eyes following him. Eyes that haunted him, his dreams, and now his reality. He wasn’t listening to the girl next to him, just a few nods and “hmm?”. It scared him, because while he believed this prophecy was talking about him and Louis, the idea that he was linked to someone forever was something that shook him to his core. And Louis had no idea. What would he do if he knew? 

Louis, on the other hand, is aware that something is bothering Harry. He’s watching him, eyes following this young servant throughout the hall. If his eyes lose Harry, they search tirelessly until they find him again, and Louis lets out the breath he doesn’t realise he’s holding. He isn’t ignoring Eleanor on purpose, well, that’s what he continues to tell himself. Louis is just confused. Confused about the forest, confused about his feelings, confused about the past and about the future. Why didn’t Harry see it? Is Louis going mad? What happened? 

Louis decides that he will understand, and will go to the one person who may know what happened; Liam. 

“Where are you going?” 

Harry asks as Louis makes his way to the court doctor, the feast is over and everyone is retiring to their chambers. 

“I need to see someone! You are dismissed for tonight!” 

Louis calls back to Harry, quickening his pace. Harry stands at the bottom of the stairs that Louis is climbing, he is somewhat hurt by being dismissed, especially after whatever happened earlier. But he shrugged it off and made his way to his chambers, it wasn’t until later that Harry realised in what direction Louis was heading. 

“Liam? Are you in there? I really need to speak to you!” 

Louis calls, quietly enough so that no one near can hear. The doors quickly open to a confused and somewhat sleepy Liam. 

“Your highness?” 

Louis nods and walks inside, the lights are off and it seems that Liam was most likely asleep. 

“Did I wake you?” Liam nods but shrugs, “I’m always awake for you, Lou.” 

Liam says offhandedly. Louis is taken aback by the friendship he shares with Liam, which seems to happen from time to time. He’s not used to people liking him. 

“I need your knowledge.” 

Liam sits down at his bench, piled with books. 

“Hit me.” 

“Has there ever been a tale or illness or something where if you look at someone everything seems to blur?” 

Liam looks at Louis as if he’s lost his mind, 

“What on Earth are you going on about?” 

“I’m going to tell you something that is going to sound insane. But you need to, you must, keep it to yourself.” 

Liam nods slowly, beginning to worry that either Louis is in danger or has actually gone nuts. And so Louis tells him everything that happened in the woods. Liam nods as he tells the story, beginning to understand exactly why Harry was there before. Once Louis finishes, Liam takes a deep breath and sighs. 

“Louis, I have something to tell you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Louis stands up, alarmed. 

“What?” 

Liam stands as well, arms outstretched in a calming gesture, 

“Lou, sit down. Come on. It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not! You’re saying soulmates are real! And mine is my fucking SERVANT?!” 

Louis is pacing now, hands on his now shaking head. 

“It’s not true! It can’t be true! I knew there was a reason why he was acting so weird!” 

Liam walks towards Louis carefully. 

“There’s no way to know that this is about you.”

Louis stops immediately, 

“So why is it the only thing that came to mind when I told you about what happened?” 

Liam goes to answer but realises he has nothing to say, and Louis makes a gesture that says  There you go . 

“But, Lou, look I’m going to try to say this delicately...” 

Louis looks at Liam, somewhat wide-eyes yet simultaneously glaring at the doctor. He sighs and plops down on a wooden bench opposite Liam. 

“The way you were talking, it sounded like you cared for him. Perhaps more than just simple friendly care?” 

Liam says it softly, and Louis looks to the floor, almost guilty. Liam was right, Louis knew that. He had no reason to be outraged at this news. And a part of him really wasn’t. A part of him was almost giddy. Really, he was excited, everything he felt was valid. 

***

Harry has moved from his chamber to Louis’, he’s pacing from the fireplace to the bed, he needs to see him. He’s chewing on the skin around his nails, a habit that he really needs to stop, but this is not the time for that. He needs Louis to come back, needs to make him understand. Needs to know. Soon enough the doors swing open, 

“Louis.” 

Harry sighs, just the sight of him soothes Harry, but Louis doesn’t even meet the green eyes, he instead puts his pointer finger in the air and shakes it, 

“Don’t.” 

His voice echoes through Harry’s bones. Louis is now shaking his head, still refusing to meet Harry’s eyes. 

A few moments later, Louis stops the pacing and anger seethes out of him. 

“You knew?!” 

Louis screams, Harry is sitting at the table in front of the fire. Louis starts pacing in front of him, head in his hands yet again. 

“So you did see it? Did hear it?” 

Harry looks at his hands in his lap, he doesn’t want to argue, he actually doesn’t know what he wants. Does he want Louis? Does he just want to go home? Does he just need to go to sleep? Probably. 

“You lied to me.” 

It isn’t a question. It’s a statement, and Louis tone punches Harry in the face, it’s not anger, it’s not disappointment, it’s just sadness, betrayal. Harry is the one person on this earth that Louis never thought would lie to him. But he did. Just like everyone else. It was at this point that Harry realised that when Louis finds out who he really is, this reaction will be the kind he wished for. He feels sick, and disgusting. He never should have come here.

“There’s no way to know that the prophecy is true, let alone about us.” 

Harry says quietly, and Louis walks away, putting as much distance between him and his liar as possible. 

“Get out.” 

It isn’t harsh, it’s exhausted. Louis is tired, so tired. He just wants to sleep, and maybe never wake up again. 

“Please.” 

Harry walks back to his chambers, but he can’t sleep. He doesn’t even try. Instead he sits at his desk, moonlight guiding him. He pulls out a piece of paper and a pen; 

_ Dear Mother,  _

_ I have been here over a month and have managed to become the crown prince’s servant. I have gone to meetings with him and found nothing. Our kingdoms seem to be truly at peace - they can not afford another invasion or war in any case. However, the King has introduced a law making homosexuality illegal on pain of death. Do not worry, I am safe. However, I have heard of a prophecy concerning our countries, it concerns blue and green, why did you not tell me this?  _

_ When can I return? I am aching to do so, I so wish to be with my people again. I can’t stay here any longer. Expect me home within the week. _

_ All my love,  _

_ Harry _

He places the pen down and sighs, he had not realised how much he missed his family. He places the letter in an envelope and writes the correct address upon it. He knows it will be painful to leave Sapphire, but it’s time. And in time he will forget all about this place, and that prophecy. And one day, Louis will be but a memory. Well, he hopes. 

In the morning Harry finds the mail servant and asks him to send it. The servant looks at the address and then, with wide eyes, back at Harry. 

“Oh, I’m just asking to move back.” 

He says with a wave of his hand, and this seemed to be good enough for the servant who nodded and moved off but not without adding an offhandedly, 

“Don’t blame ya.” 

Harry goes around his duties for the rest of the day. Neither him nor Louis are particularly pleasant to the other, and any progress they seemed to have made has evaporated. 

***

The day was a whirlwind of blue and yellow; golden chandeliers, blue suits, champagne gowns and sapphire flames. Harry had to run around the Great Hall, placing lights up and adhering to the Kings every request as Louis sat in the corner; eyes sad.

Eleanor walked up to him at around mid-day, and Harry had to physically hold himself back from marching over there and telling her  exactly  what he thought. But instead he looked to the task in hand; fairy lights needed to be draped over every possible surface. 

The evening came by too fast, Harry felt sick waiting in his room. He wanted to talk to Louis, he’d only get around an hour with him, as he still needed to dress him. 

6:00. It’s time. Harry walked (quickly but he’d deny it) to Louis’ chambers, walking in without knocking. 

There he way, he was laying on his bed, fully clothed in a deep blue velvet suit. Harry blinked, and stood in the doorway. 

“Close the door.” 

Harry does, and walks slowly towards the bed. Louis sits up, hair messy, eyes red. Harry swallows hard and sits on the edge of the bed, next to the prince. 

“Are you okay?” 

Louis shrugs and wipes his eye. He looks at Harry, there seems to be a light fading behind them. 

“Not really but I have to be. Are  _ we  _ okay?” 

Harry furrows his eyebrows, watching Louis carefully. 

“I didn’t think we weren’t okay.” 

It’s genuine, he’s not trying to be petty or passive aggressive. He wasn’t angry at Louis. They had fought, yes, but they’re both going through so much. Keeping so many secrets. Tensions are bound to be high. 

“Really?” 

Harry’s nodded, placing his hand on Louis’, he could feel the prince tense up a little at the touch, and decided to pull his hand away. 

“Ready, your _highness_?” 

Harry was joking, and it actually elicited a chuckle from Louis.  _Finally_.  They’re back to normal. Louis gets up from the bed and walks towards the door, but stops in his tracks just before he reaches it. 

“Wait! I almost forgot!” 

Louis turns around and runs to his wardrobe at the end of his bed, he rips the doors open, and reveals a cobalt silk suit covered in plastic. He brings it over to Harry, trying to give it to him.

“What? Do you want me to clean it?” 

Louis tutted and rolled his eyes, handing the suit over to Harry. 

“I want you to  _ wear  _ it, stupid.” 

Harry felt the redness burn his cheeks, and bit his inner cheek, looking down at the (beautiful) suit. 

“I can’t accept this, Lou.” 

The prince refused to take the suit back, despite Harry’s efforts. 

“Look, I had it made for you, it won’t fit me. And I want you to be there tonight, if I hadn’t given this to you, would you have anything nice enough to wear?” 

Harry’s silence was his answer. Louis raised an eyebrow and turned around, giving Harry some privacy. 

“Get changed.” 

The suit fit like a glove, the silk was soft to the touch, and the colour made the green of his eyes turn teal. He watched himself in the mirror, and wow. He looked hot. He looked like a prince.  _ You are a prince, Harry.  _

“Okay.” 

Louis turns around, and a quiet gasp escapes his lips. The breath has been taken from his lungs and it’s hard to breathe. 

“Y-you’re stunning.” 

Louis wanted to drop to one knee and ask for the boys hand in marriage right there. Instead he swallowed hard and gestured to the door with his head, Harry smiled, nodded, and out they walked together. Louis’ hand brushes Harry’s hand, and they both jump back a little, flinching. 

The Great Hall was aglow with golden candles and blue flames. Fairy lights twinkled in the evening light, and there were a few round tables dotted around the outskirts of the room, at the top was a string band, music dancing through the air. In the middle of the tables was a clearing where guests were already up and dancing. In an hour a dinner would be served, and Harry would be one to serve it, the thought made him sick. 

Louis cascaded down the stairs like liquid, his suit caught the light perfectly and Harry noticed the small flecks of glitter that covered it. It made him smile, he watched the crowd watch Louis from the balcony that overlooked the Great Hall, arms resting on the stone fence. Their faces told him a thousand words, every single one of them was in awe of their prince, even the King looked proud - a rare occurrence. 

Eleanor greets Louis at the foot of the stairs, he dress drips crystals, it’s the colour of golden champagne, and has sparkles covering every inch - it’s a bit much honestly. Her hair is pinned back and falls elegantly down her back in curls. Harry watches them, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it until Louis meets his eyes, and  _smiles. He fucking smiles. At Harry._

“You alright, mate?” 

Ah that familiar and comforting sound as a hand claps Harry on the back. The pink eyes look at Harry, somewhat concerned. 

“I’m good, Niall.” 

Harry’s eyes moved back to where Louis was, and an unreadable expression looked back up at him. 

“Oi, he looks proper mad.” 

Harry shrugged, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder. 

“You look nice. How’d you afford that?” 

Niall threw an arm around Harry’s shoulder, resting his head on Harry’s.

“I didn’t. Lou bought it for me.” 

“Oooooo,  Lou. ” 

Niall playfully poked Harry’s arm, and the boy just chuckled, still staring at Louis on the floor below. 

The blonde boy shrugged Harry up and sighed, getting ready to go downstairs. 

“C’mon, we might as well enjoy ourselves before we’re put to work.” 

Harry chuckles and takes Niall’s outstretched hand. They practically skip down the stone steps, and Harry can feel his every move being watched. 

The band starts to play and Niall immediately drags Harry into the dance floor, flinging Harry’s arms around his neck and placing his on Harry’s hips. 

“Dance with me.” 

They start to sway to the music and Harry can see Louis holding a champagne flute so tightly that his fingers are going white. 

“Looks like I don’t have a choice in the matter.” 

The crowd around them gasps and mutters, it makes Harry feel self-conscious. But then Niall twirls him, and the simple joy on their faces causes other couples to join in. The girl with the pink eyes stands up against a wall, smiling sadly to herself. Harry catches her eye and gestures her over, and to his delight, she obliges with the biggest smile on her face. 

For the next 45 minutes the three of them dance, laugh and dance some more. But soon, their joy comes to an end as dinner is served. Harry serves the King, Louis, Eleanor and a few other nobles from both kingdoms. There was a temptation to “accidentally” spill the wine on her dress, but he decides on professionalism instead. 

The dinner takes two hours to run it’s course, but Harry doesn’t get to see any of it, he’s stuffed into the kitchens with every other servant eating leftovers. But eventually, the ball really starts. The band plays livelier music, and everyone is on the dance floor, yes, even Louis. 

They dance the night away - and well, drink the night away. That is, until the King announces that Louis and Eleanor will be dancing. Together. Alone. With everyone watching.  _Fan-fucking-tastic_. 

The music starts and the lights dim, the hall is illuminated in blue and it suits them both so well, Eleanor curtsey’s to him and he bows to her, and off they go. They twirl and dip around the floor, Louis placed his left hand on her waist and she places her left on his, their other arms outstretched beside them, and then they switch to the other arm. Swans. Graceful. Elegant. Floating around the floor, clothing catching the light.  _ A fucking fairytale couple. _

The music ends and they end where they started, curtseying and bowing. The King speaks again, thanking everyone and sending the court off to bed. That’s it. That’s how this magical night ends, with reality crashing down and burying the two boys under it. 

Harry waits for Louis outside his room after saying goodnight to Niall and Eleanors maid - Ella. 

Louis comes after not too long, takes one look at Harry and rolls his eyes. 

Inside the room, Louis went around immediately taking his suit off, he was obviously in a bad mood, but Harry wanted to do his job. 

“I can do that! Let me!” 

Harry went up to Louis, who just flinched away from the boy, snapping at him,

“No! Leave me alone.” 

Harry sighed but walked away, he decided to get the bed ready as Louis was behind a screen, putting pyjamas on. 

“So, that dance was beautiful, I didn’t know you had been practicing.” 

Louis talks from behind the screen, there an edge to his voice that matches his expression from earlier. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Harry.” 

Harry shrugged the words off, trying not to let his emotions guide him. 

“Oh? Like what?” 

Louis sighs, and emerges, arms crossed.

“Who was that boy?”

“What boy?” 

Louis rolls his eyes.

“The pretty blond one with the rose eyes.” 

“Oh! That’s Niall! Why?” 

Harry furrows his eyebrows as Louis shrugs his shoulders.

“No reason.” 

Louis sits down on his bed, ready to go to sleep. Realisation drops down Harry’s face, he chuckles as it does.

“Oh! Oh my god! Are you  jealous? ” 

Louis shakes his head and gets into bed, blowing out the candle on his bedside table. 

“Pfffft! As if!” 

Harry giggles, walking towards the door, and in a singsong voice says;

“You’re jealous! I made the prince jealous!” 

A cushion hits Harry on the back of his head, and from the darkness comes a chuckle.

“Goodnight, Lou.” 

“Goodnight, Curly.” 

Two days later there is a knock at Louis’ chambers, it’s been a blissful couple of days, filled with laughter, banter, maybe even a little bit of flirting. Everything has been forgotten, everything is good. 

Harry is there, making the bed as Louis eats his breakfast by the fire. He looks up to the door and breathes carefully, he has a bad feeling about today, and he’s right to have it too. Louis goes to see who it is, 

“Ah, Sire!” 

The guard looks to Harry and immediately lowers his voice while keeping his eyes firmly on Harry. Louis nods and thanks the guard, he turns to face Harry, who notices a cream envelope in Louis hand. Louis turns on his heel and snarls a 

“Your highness.” 


	9. Chapter 9

Harry starts to splutter, understandably. 

“W-what?” 

He’s stopped dead in his tracks, the broom he was previously sweeping with, clutched tightly in his hand, knuckles turning white. 

“Oh, apologies. I said, Your Highness.” 

Louis spits the words and starts to walk towards Harry. The paper in his hand is gripped so tightly that it’s wrinkling, the noise of it makes Harry wince. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Harry says but his voice betrays him, it wobbles, showing Harry’s fear. 

“What’s that?” 

He gestures towards Louis’ hand, who chuckles. It isn’t as light and airy as it should be. It’s dry, it’s dark, and it scares Harry. 

“Oh? This?” 

He takes the paper in his hands, 

“Dear Son, Are you sure Sapphire is not planning on invasion? But nonetheless, it is time you come home, your sister is to be coronated in two weeks’ time. Come home, Harry. You are not safe there, and perhaps it’s time someone put an end to the Sapphire Rule. Sincerely, Mum.” 

Harry looks to the floor, footsteps slowly getting closer to him. 

“Well?” 

Harry’s head snaps up, blue eyes closer than he imagined, he makes a confused face as Louis just rolls his eyes. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

His voice is calm, but not kind. There’s an edge to his voice, and it’s as sharp as a knife, threatening to cut Harry in two. Harry doesn’t move, he can but he doesn’t want to. Last night he would’ve given anything to be with Louis, anything to make his prince smile, but now, standing face to face with his soulmate, he isn’t sure, isn’t sure if Louis is worth it, if any of this was worth it. 

“WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!” 

It’s a roar, one that makes Harry jump and almost scared for his life. 

“Because I-“ 

He starts, but furrows his eyebrows instead of finishing, he looks back down at the floor, Louis has moved away from him now, but turns on his heal at Harry’s voice. 

“Because you what?” 

He growls, it’s low and thunderous. Harry opens his mouth but closes it again. _Say it._ He can’t, it’s useless. What could he possibly say? _I’m in love with you._ Not likely. 

“Oh forget it!” 

Harry says, voice rising, blood boiling. 

“Why do you care?” 

Harry whispers, it’s so quiet that Louis barely hears, 

“What’s that?!” 

He spits yet again, 

“WHY DO YOU CARE?” 

Harry explodes. He is sick of this. Sick of the back and forth. Sick of the lying. Sick of the hiding. Louis takes a step back, alarmed. 

“Well?” 

Harry sneers, somewhat proud of himself for throwing that back in Louis’ face. 

“Well, I-“, Louis shakes his head and looks to the floor, “I think you know.” 

He looks back up, his eyes meet Harry’s, blue eyes meeting green. 

“Oh no, don’t you give me that shit. You have something to say to me? You say it.” 

Each word is dripping in blood, Louis breathes hard and swallows. 

“You first.” 

Louis smirks. Finally, no hiding. Full, unedited feeling. Harry laughs, it’s a hard sound, like rock. He meets Louis eyes and scowls. They stand like that for what feels like hours. 

Harry sighs, defeated. He tears his eyes away from Louis and moves towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Home, your _highness_. Or do I need your permission for that too?” 

Louis is almost childlike now, his eyes are big and watery, Harry swears he can hear him whimpering, 

“But you promised you’d never leave.” 

It’s barely even a whisper. It stops Harry in his tracks, he can’t look at Louis, he wants to, he really wants to. But he doesn’t, he simply whispers a;

“I know.” 

And walks out the doors as Louis crumples to the floor.

Back in Harry’s chambers, he is throwing clothes into a small suitcase, blood still boiling. Then comes a knock at his door, 

“Fuck off.” 

But the door still opens, and Harry is met with golden eyes, he stands up straight immediately when he sees her. 

“Don’t leave.” 

Harry shakes his head, and continues to pack. 

“I have to. I have nothing here. Not anymore.” 

Eleanor reaches out and places her hand on his shoulder, 

“You know that’s not true. He needs you.” 

Harry scoffs, and turns to look at her, 

“And me? What do I need?” 

She giggles, and places her hand on his cheek, thumb caressing his temple. 

“Him.” 

Harry moves out of her grasp and shakes his head. 

“But I can’t.” He’s pleading with his eyes, “I can’t need him. Not right now.” 

Eleanor reluctantly nods, and grabs Harry into a deep hug. 

“Will you ever return?” 

Harry wraps his arms around her, she smells like sunshine and luxury, if that’s even possible. 

“Unlikely, I have no place here.” 

She places a sweet peck on his cheek, right where a tear has fallen, 

“You’ll always have a place here.” 

“It’s not my home.” 

“No, but _he is._

***

Harry runs. He packs his bags and runs. He doesn’t look back for anyone. Eleanors words are echoing in his mind _He is_. He’s his home? What bullshit. Emerald is his home. Green and luxury and family. Not blue and harshness and him. He manages to get out of the city before too long, and no one stops him. A part of him was hoping that Louis would be waiting and wouldn’t let him leave, would drop to his knees and beg him to stay. But Louis watched, up in the tower he watched Harry walk out of his life, tears blurring his vision, silently begging him to stay.

Harry doesn’t stop. He continues to walk. He is exhausted, he should rest, but he can’t stay here, in this kingdom, this close to him. If he stays, he’ll go back to him. He knows he will. At least that’s one good thing about Harry, he knows himself well; perhaps too well.

He reaches the border by sunrise, he doesn’t hesitate, he almost wished he did though. 

He aches to look back, to see the place that could’ve so easily been home. He wants to see Louis, hear his voice, get lost in those eyes, just one last time. But he walks through the barrier, urging those thoughts to become memories. 

His driver is waiting for him on the other side, a deep green car is beside him, the door already open. 

“Welcome home, sir.” 

Harry doesn’t think, he puts two arms around a man he has known for most of his life, and he lets the tears fall, he lets the tears consume him. They hold each other until Harry stops crying, and then Harry gets into the car and they drive deeper into Emerald and further away from Sapphire. And from Louis. 

By the time Harry has reached the castle, it is almost late morning, and the place is abuzz, everyone excited for Harry’s return. All Harry wants to do is sleep, forget about the life he left back in Sapphire, forget the piece of him that will forever reside there. And forget about those bloody eyes. They seem to follow him, even here, they find him, and they break Harry’s heart each time. 

He had barely stepped one foot through the front door before his mother, father, and sister were all rushing towards him, arms outstretched. 

“Harry, dear!” 

His mother calls, and he accepts each embrace, the group falling into a bundle on the floor, Harry enjoying the smells of his family. But something is different, none of this soothes Harry the way it should, his mothers perfume is almost too strong, his sisters’ is making him feel sick, and his fathers aftershave is just simply repulsive. The embraces are too tight, the greens too bright and the clothes too soft. This isn’t Harry’s home anymore, and it never will be again.

Harry sighs, tears falling once again, but not out of pain, nor heartbreak, out of regret. He should’ve listened to Eleanor. 

He should’ve listened to his heart.

Harry makes his way to his bedroom, his feet drag behind him, his eyes almost closed. He doesn’t change, still dressed in the blues of Sapphire, he falls into his bed, and allows the hollowness inside consume him. And once again, blue eyes meet him in his dreams. And Harry doesn’t push them away. He wants them closer, needs them closer. He needs Louis.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry wakes up in the evening after resting the day away. Waking up in his room felt surreal, like he was still in a dream. His doors open quietly and his mother walks in. 

“I was hoping you’d be awake, we have a surprise for you!” 

She sits on the end of the bed, stroking Harry’s cheek slowly. 

“Get showered and dressed and meet us in the throne room.” 

She looks at Harry down her nose, grimacing at the harsh blue clothes, Harry touches the material tentatively, wishing it would stick to his body and swallow him whole. 

“And throw these away.” 

Harry nods and moves to get up. He’s numb, he doesn’t care about anything anymore. He looks in the mirror at the cobalt shirt, he picks up the collar and moves it to his nose. It smells like Eleanor, and he quickly unbuttons it. He looks to the bin, but instead carefully folds the material and placed it at the back of his wardrobe, where no one will look.

Harry is dressed in - what most people in Emerald would consider - a simple green velvet suit. His hair has been gelled, so that his fringe is flat at the top of his head, but his curls make their way out from behind his ears. He sighs and walks downstairs, presenting a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

As he walked into the throne room, he could smell him before he saw him. The aftershave hit Harry like a tidal wave, memories from a childhood ran through his mind. A boy from long ago with brilliant white eyes. A boy who was the literal embodiment of his kingdom. A friend. A best friend. A lost friend. 

“Zayn.” 

Harry breathed, running to cuddle his long lost friend. White eyes smiled back at him and just as quickly accepted the hug. 

“Harry!” 

Zayn chirped, voice just as before, if not matured. 

“It’s been too long.” 

Zayn chuckled, and Harry buried his head into his chest. The smell reminded him of a day, 10 years ago, a bottle spilled on an emerald carpet, a man with white eyes smiling down at two very young and upset boys. 

“You’re alone?” 

Harry asked, realising the man from years ago was not here. 

“Yeah, dad died last year,” 

Zayn looks to the floor, Harry’s face warped into complete sadness, before retaliation and he gasped, immediately bowing.

“Your majesty!” 

Harry mentally slapped himself, but Zayn quickly grabbed Harry by the shoulders and brought him back up. 

“No no! I’m not King!” 

Zayn protested, Harry stared at Zayn and then moved his eyes to his family, none of whom met his eyes. 

“But, you’re first in line?” 

Harry asked, begging for an explanation. Zayn looks to the floor, aware of Harry’s views to the royal line, 

“I gave it up.” 

“You _what_ ?” 

It’s not angry, it’s shock, complete and absolute shock. Harry never believed that Zayn would give up the throne, Harry may have given the idea a thought, but he never believed he would actually do it. 

“It’s gone to my sister, she’s much more worthy of it. You know I was never suited to that life.” 

Zayn claps a hand on Harry’s shoulder, and who chuckles and watches his friend with awe. His face is covered in stubble, his jaw could cut a diamond. _How ironic._

“So why are you here then?” 

Zayn shrugs, gesturing to Harry’s parents says, 

“I was invited.” 

Once everyone has eaten, Harry goes to talk to his parents, in private. Irritation is painting on his face.

“Why is he here? After all this time.” 

His father sighs, green eyes piercing his soul, 

“Well, you’re getting older..” 

He begins and Harry fears he knows exactly where this is going, he starts to shake his head but his mother snaps her fingers in front of his eyes, 

“And every union we’ve tried to set up for you hasn’t seemed to work out, so we thought-“ 

“You thought I’d be much happier marrying an old friend?” 

Harry laughs, it’s dry and it’s cold. It sends shivers through his father, but his mothers eyes harden at the sound. 

“Were we wrong?” 

Is all the reply he gets, and it’s enough for Harry to turn on his heel and make his way to his chambers.  _Yes_.  He wants to scream the word.  _Yes, of course you were wrong_.  There is one man in this world that he wanted to marry. The man of his dreams. The man with the blue eyes. The man he’ll never see again.

Outside his chambers is Zayn, white eyes mapped with worry. 

“So?” 

Harry rolls his eyes, and puts an arm round Zayn. 

“They think I’d be willing to marry you.” 

His voice has an edge of disbelief, he and Zayn never discussed their sexualities, this might be somewhat offensive to him. 

“I know, and would you?” 

Harry blinks. The question bouncing off of the stone walls, and back into Harry’s mind. His mind races, Zayn would be okay with marrying him? Is this a proposal? Harry had never given the idea any thought. Zayn was supposed to marry a beautiful woman from, well, anywhere. Harry is confused, more confused than ever. He doesn’t see Zayn that way. And he doesn’t think he ever will. How can you marry someone when you’re dreaming of another? 

“I don’t know.” 

Is all Harry says, and it seems to be enough for Zayn. It’s a lie, probably the biggest lie Harry has ever said. He will never marry Zayn, he’s not even sure if he’ll ever marry at all. Zayn is great, and in all aspects but one Zayn would be the perfect match for Harry, he was caring, loving, protective, everything Harry wanted. But he just wasn’t Louis. 

***

The next morning Elizabeth rushes into Harry’s room and aggressively wakes him, shaking him by the shoulders.

“What?” 

Harry asks, groggy. 

“Get up. Get dressed. Get to the throne room!” 

Harry sits up at the tone of her voice, it’s alarmed and very much scared. So Harry does, and does so quickly.

In the throne room, everyone is standing around, worry painted on their faces. They all turn to face Harry, and he can see some physically relax while others become more tense. 

“What?” 

Harry asks, he doesn’t care who answers, as long as someone does. 

“It’s Sapphire.” 

His mother starts, she’s treading carefully. They all look like they’re going to walk on eggshells around him. 

“What’s happened?” 

Harry asks, his voice is urgent, worried. 

“The King has ordered for any who are suspected of homosexual acts or relationships to be..” 

His mother looks to the floor, Harry knows what’s happened but he wants to hear it. He needs to hear it. He looks to Elizabeth who sighs when they’re eyes meet, 

“Executed.” 

She finishes for her mother. Harry doesn’t gasp, he doesn’t react at all. His mind races with the thought of Louis. Is he safe? Do they know? Know what though? The crowd in front of him had a mixture of confusion and tension spread on their faces. They expected him to react, and react bad. Crying? Screaming? But he just blinked, nodded, said a quick, 

“Okay.” 

And returned to his rooms, where upon closing the door, leant of the mint green wood, and silently sobbed, softly banging his head on his door. He shouldn’t have left. Now Louis is in danger and he isn’t there to protect him. What an idiot. 

Meanwhile, miles away, there is a boy, who masks himself as a man, sitting on the floor in his room. Tears are staining his cheeks, eyes red and raw, throat sore from the screaming. Outside his window he can hear the screams of the innocent, he can hear the bullets of the execution guns. He refuses to close his window. He is just as guilty as those pulling the trigger. If he is to be king, he has to know exactly what his kingdom went through. But, he’s given up. First the love of his life left without a look back, and now his very life is in danger. But no one knows, do they? His bedroom doors and a man with a stern but almost smug expression enters. His eyes glisten with all the colours of the rainbow, a sign that he belongs in Opal. Louis wipes his eyes aggressively and stands, a quick bow given to the man. 

“Oh please, crying? Over those,” 

He pauses, disgust painted over his face, with a flurry of his hand another round of bullets are fired and more screams are silenced, 

“Anyway, I’m here to say that in a weeks’ time you will be married.” 

Louis looks up, urging his face to remain calm. He nods, he doesn’t ask, he needs to move on, and maybe this is the only way to do it. Maybe he needs to be forced into it. When the man leaves, Louis gets to his feet and looks out the window, in the courtyard below is a pile of bodies, and guards sweeping the red stones. He closes his eyes tight, reaches for the open pane of glass, pulls it shut and locks his window, 

“This is my fault.”

Later that night, his doors open once again, and in walks a girl with long brown locks and golden eyes. She practically wears a halo. Louis rolls his eyes at the sight of her, bored of her laughter and goodness. 

“Get out.” 

He says, and it’s exhausted, she shakes her head, places a hand on her hip and scoffs, 

“Look. I don’t want to marry you either.” 

Louis looks at her, confusion masking his face, he goes to talk but she puts her pointer finger in the air. 

“You don’t love me.” 

He goes to talk again but she just smiles, 

“I’m not offended. I don’t think I could ever love you either.” 

She goes to sit on the edge of Louis bed, where he is currently leaning on the headboard. 

“I could love you.” 

Louis says quietly, she’s placed a hand on his cheek and rubs a tear that has begun to fall, 

“No you couldn’t.” She whispers. “You love him.” 

She says it more as a question but she knows the answer, she just needs to know. That’s the only way she can decide exactly what to do. And Louis nods.

“I love him.” 


	11. Chapter 11

It’s morning in Sapphire the day before Louis’ supposed wedding. The king himself woke Louis up, shouting pleasantries, excited for the day of planning and preparation ahead. Louis, on the other hand, was not. Instead he turned over and grumbled into his pillow, thoughts of Harry wrecked his brain and Louis urged them to the side. It was almost his wedding day, he should be over the moon. 

Louis and Eleanor had decided to go along with the engagement in order to protect Louis. People would start talking, and in this current climate, that could end his life, and they both knew that the king was not above executing his own son. They figured that once the King was dead, they’d just divorce. 

What Louis didn’t know what that Eleanor had sent a letter to Harry. A letter that begged him to stop this wedding. A letter that Harry cried himself to sleep over. A letter that Harry kept under his pillow just to remind him that Louis still wanted him. Still needed him. That was all Harry needed, he needed to be needed.

Eleanor had expected Harry to be in Sapphire by now, and considering everyone now knew who he was, there would definitely be a buzz around town. But instead; crickets. It disappointed her, she believed in him, believed in his love for Louis. But, perhaps she was wrong. She so didn’t want to be wrong. Harry was her last chance, if he were here, she’d be strong enough to say no when it came to it. Perhaps she was strong enough without him.

The wedding was due to happen at 11am the next day, and Eleanor did not want to go through with it. She spent the day with her ladies in waiting, trying on her dress and giggling. There were some eyes that followed her that day, and every time she saw them, her smile would fall and her guilt would punch her in the face. But then they tried on their dresses and giggled some more. Louis spent the day doing exactly the same, trying on his suit, watching others fawn over how beautiful the wedding was going to be and how wonderful they looked together and blah blah blah. Nobles chatted and he smiled, but his mind was somewhere else, sometime else. It was in the woods with a beautiful boy with the green eyes and the curls. Louis decided to distract himself amongst his sisters. All were bridesmaids, and all looked beautiful. The eldest was closest to Louis, she was to be married off soon, and Louis was doing everything in his power to stop that. She knew, she knew how Louis felt about that young curly servant. And she loved him, loved him maybe more than before. Because now she knew who he truly was, and how strong he had become, and she was overwhelmed with how proud she was of him. But the curly one left. Not only did he leave, but he lied. And he isn’t back, and she hates him. He needed to come back, that was their only chance. If this marriage happened, then everything anyone had worked towards was over.

Back in Emerald, Harry was running through the palace halls, letter in hand, tears down cheeks. He had left it too late. There were guards running after him, limbs flailing, his mother was calling, begging him to stay, his sister was pushing him out the doors. 

“There’s nothing there for you, dear.” 

His mother tried, hands on his shoulders, prepared to shake him awake. 

“They’ll kill you.”

Harry nods, 

“I know,” 

He shrugs, and she removes her hands, 

“and you know what? You’re wrong, there _is_ something left for me. Someone left for me. And you know what else? It’s worth it. He’s worth it.” 

His mother looks at him in shock, 

“You’d die for him?” 

She’s careful, she needs the answer, there is only one way she will allow her only son to go. 

“Mother, I’d defy the devil himself for him.” 

His mother nods. 

“Good, because you are.” 

And, with that, he runs. Elizabeth screams and punches the air behind him, wooing loudly behind him. 

“Now, kiss him, you fool!” 

She yells, and Harry laughs. 

Harry runs through his kingdom, through the barrier, and it is already sunrise by the time he makes it into Sapphire. He is exhausted, he can’t run, he can’t walk, he can’t even stand. He falls to his knees, sobbing, and tells himself he failed. He imagines Louis getting ready, with a suit that made his eyes shimmer, looking to the doors, begging for Harry to run in, and becoming more and more disappointed when he doesn’t. Louis doesn’t deserve this. He deserves more. More than Harry. More than Eleanor. More than this fucking life where he has to hide. That’s all it takes, that small thought of Louis, for Harry to punch the mud on the ground, get back to his feet, and run. He runs for Louis. For the thought of Louis.

Inside the navy castle, not too far away, there is a boy standing in a royal blue suit, a yellow rose on his lapel, the King is in front of him, and hundreds of people line the room. Each in differing shades of dark blue and yellows. The room itself has floor to ceiling roses and candles, the candles are blue but the roses are yellow. He keeps fidgeting, he hears whispers discussing how nervous he must be. How excited. Louis rolls his eyes, yes he’s over the moon to be marrying a woman he barely knows, let alone loves and who couldn’t love him less. 

The doors open and Eleanor enters, a champagne gown covers her, delicate lace falls down her arms, and a veil covers her face. Her bouquet is blue roses, with yellow baby’s-breath surrounding them. She walks down the aisle to the sound of pleased gasps and delighted whispers. She isn’t smiling, her eyes have dulled from their usual gold to an almost mustard. Behind her is Louis’ sisters and other bridesmaids, dripping in sparkling gold gown, each holding a singular blue rose. Immediately behind Eleanor is the girl with the pink eyes, she looks to the floor, tears falling down her rosy cheeks. Louis notes how everyone looks as if they are attending a funeral, much less the wedding of the century. The music moves as she walks, strings pulling her towards him. Finally, Eleanor reaches Louis and he removes the veil from the front of her face. A heliodor tiara sits atop her now curled hair, which is clipped back but ringlets still fall. She does not look Louis in the eye, they stay focused on the floor. 

The king starts, arms outstretched as if he were welcoming the room to give him a hug, Louis scoffs quietly at the action and Eleanor nudges him.

“Friends, family, people of Sapphire, we are gathered here today to witness the joyful union of two beautiful kingdoms, through the marriage of my son, Louis, and the princess of Heliodor, Eleanor.” 

There is a round of applause and Louis almost scoffs. The king continues, talking and talking and _will he ever shut the fuck up?_ After what feels like a lifetime, they make it to the vows. 

“Now, do you, Louis, Crown Prince of Sapphire take Eleanor to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, from this day forward?” 

Louis sighs, he nods and nutters an; 

“I do.” 

Eleanor shakes her head, sucking her teeth, eyes still locked on the floor. The king repeats the vows to her and she hesitates. She looks to Louis and he can see that she’s trying to apologise, he furrows his brows in confusion until he hears a 

“No.” 

Its defiant and confident, it takes the room by surprise and the air shifts. She is strong and powerful in that moment and perhaps she always had been, but that was news to Louis. She is beautiful, glowing even. She smiles to Louis and gestures to the doors with her head, giggling slightly.

And then he sees the doors to the throne room are open. And standing at the beginning of the aisle are a pair of big emerald eyes, his face red and breathing heavy. But he’s here. Right there. His eyes are brighter than Louis remembers as he stares down the aisle. All eyes are on them. But only Louis’ eyes matter. Because blue see green. 

***

“I now pronounce you-“ 

The King’s previously closed eyes were now snapped wide open, they almost glowed with fury. 

“No? You said NO?!” 

He boomed, the castle shook at the sound. Eleanor kept her head high, nearly smirking at the sight before her, 

“I said no. I will only marry for love, I do not love your son. And I can guarantee he doesn’t love me.” 

She was strong and unyielding. The king holds up his hand, and suddenly the castle is silent except for the loud skin to skin contact of the kings hand - ring first - to the cheek of a previously beloved princess. Eleanor laughs, it’s dry and it even knocks the king. 

“You should not have done that.” 

She snarls, her cheek is red and her cheekbone bleeding, a smile is playing on her lips, she’s antagonising the king, and she likes it. She turns to face the crowd, addressing them instead of the king, and Louis swears he sees steam come out of his ears as she turns her back on him.

“I’ve had word today that my father has died and my elder brother has refused the crown.” 

The kings eyes widen at the news, and Louis has to refrain from laughing, the entire throne room moves to bow and curtsy to Eleanor before she even opens her mouth to speak again, everyone knows where this is going.

“I, on the other hand, have accepted the throne, making this marriage,” 

She turns back to the king to spit the final words in his face,

“impossible anyway.” 

The words have slapped the king in the face, but have warmed Louis’ heart. 

“You are no longer welcome here.” 

The King growls, but she simply shrugs her lace covered shoulders. 

“I have patience, I will wait for your death.” 

The crowd gasps, but Louis smiles, and has to stifle a laugh. He can’t help it, as he looks at her now he knows, that in a different life, he would have been happy with her, and would have loved her with all his heart. But in this life, green eyes follow his every move and green eyes make his heart beat that little bit faster. 

Eleanor turns on her heel, winking at Louis, who smiles widely back, and walks out the room, heels echoing off the stone walls. He turns to watch her leave but his eyes are looking for something, or perhaps someone. He finds him, but he’s not alone, a beautiful boy with white eyes is standing, perhaps too close to him, arms touching, and Harry is watching this boy intently, the way he used to look at Louis, and Louis hears a small crack. 

Louis walks away, following in Eleanors footsteps, as his father grabs at his suit jacket and tries to convince him to talk to his now ex fiancé, but he just shrugs him off. He looked his father up and down, scoffing. 

“I didn’t even want this marriage. What makes you think I’d beg her to marry me? It’s over, get over it.” 

The King looks as if Louis had just slapped him across the face. His father grabbed his forearm, but Louis - without looking back at the man - ripped his arm from his grasp, a sinister smile spread across his face. 

Now, Louis is in his chambers, throwing clothes into bags, frustration running through his veins. He doesn’t know why he’s angry, all he knows is that he is. He is so fucking angry. He’s angry that he can’t love who he wants. Angry that Harry was looking at that boy like that. Angry that that boy was that close to him. Angry that he didn’t know why he cared. Angry that he didn’t understand what was happening. 

His chamber doors opened quietly, so quietly that Louis didn’t know that there was someone there in the first place. The golden eyes are what catches his eye, 

“What are you doing?” 

She asks, moving closer, hand almost on his arm. 

“I’m leaving.” 

She was concerned, he was erratic. 

“Where?” 

“Anywhere! Everywhere!” 

He twirled around her, arms outstretched. 

“Why?” 

“I just need to clear my head.” 

“Of what?” 

He looked at her, she knew what. She just needed to hear it. Louis didn’t know, however. He just needed to get out. He shakes his head, trying to get her to understand that he didn’t. 

“I know why.” 

His brows are furrowed at her words, how could she know if he didn’t? She walked slowly towards him, put a hand on his cheek, 

“Did you really think I didn’t marry you because I didn’t love you?” 

She sighs, a tear falls, and Louis gasps softly. She rests her forehead on his and whispers an 

“I love you.” 

He opens his mouth to talk but she shakes her head, and he closes his mouth. She giggles away any tears and sighs happily, 

“But you love him. And I’m okay with that. All I want is your happiness, and honestly? It’s been an honour to have loved you, your highness.” 

“What the fuck?” 

A voice comes, and green eyes full of betrayal follow.


	12. Chapter 12

Louis and Eleanor break apart immediately, 

“Harry, no.” 

It’s Eleanor who talks, she is already walking towards him, and Louis can’t help but think of what a good queen she’s going to make.

Harry moves to run for the door, but before he can Eleanor has already grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. He’s crying, and Louis moves towards them but Eleanor shakes her head at him. She has slowly turned around so that she is facing Louis and the door is behind her, she closes it softly while clutching Harry to her chest. He isn’t hugging her back, he’s just standing there, tears streaming down his face. She pulls away and takes him by the shoulders, 

“Harry, sweetheart, there is nothing between Louis and I, I promise you.” 

Harry doesn’t believe her, even Louis can tell. 

“I think you two need to talk - Lou, send word when you’re on the throne. Until then.” 

She nods, does a two finger salute and takes her leave, Louis nods and quickly bows to her. Before she gets out the door, she leans to whisper in Harry’s ear, 

“Listen to him. He’s broken without you.” 

Harry steps back, surprised at her words. She looks at him intently, and he nods and whispers an “Okay.” back. 

Harry turns to Louis, arms folded. He’s closed off, and Louis wants to break in. 

“Well?” 

Louis has nothing to say, no excuse good enough. 

“Why are you here? Not here in this room, here in Sapphire.” 

Harry too, has nothing to say, his mind is blank, so he just tells the truth, 

“Eleanor sent word about your wedding and-“ 

“And what? You thought you’d burst through the doors and be her knight in shining armour?” 

Louis scoffs, he’s angry again, and frustrated because he doesn’t know why, he doesn’t even know why he’s referencing El, because this talk is not about her. Louis knows this, but he’s so angry he can’t think straight. 

“Not hers.” 

Harry whispers, but Louis hears it, and he understands. He has lost his ability to talk, he is paused mid-gasp. 

“I don’t know what to say..” 

Louis starts, and he really doesn’t. So Harry speaks, 

“This is hard for me-“ 

“Who is he?” 

Louis cuts Harry off, thoughts racing, filter gone. Harry looks confused, 

“Who?” 

Louis rolls his eyes, 

“The beautiful boy with the white eyes?” 

Harry laughs, it’s light and airy as it should be, and it relaxes Louis. 

“An old friend, my parents invited him to Emerald for a possible union.” 

Harry speaks quickly, hoping Louis will get lost in the words and ignore the fact that Harry may very well have a fiancé. He did not. 

“You’re engaged?” 

It’s sad, it’s heartbroken, it’s cold. Harry can see the bricks going up, one by one.

“No. I don’t want him.” 

Harry steps closer to Louis, whose eyes are so bright that Harry swears he can see hints of green in them. Hints of him in them

“Who then?” 

Louis steps closer to Harry as well, Harry brushes his hand on Louis’ and feels something attached to his skin, he looks down to the back of Louis’ wrist where a small square of cling film is covering a raw tattoo. 

“Quotation marks?” 

“I can’t change.” 

Is his reply, and their eyes meet once again. Harry reaches down and pulls his shirt up, showing a raw, red butterfly tattoo in the middle of his chest, Louis looks down and gasps softly, he traces the edges of the wings with his finger. 

“It is what it is.” 

Harry smiles, and Louis’ eyes fill with tears, one slips out the corner of his eye and Harry wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. 

“Hold me?” 

Harry nods and wraps his arms around Louis, resting his chin on Louis’ head. 

“I’ve missed you, Lou.” 

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Harry?” 

A smooth voice come from behind him, he breaks away from Louis and turns to see brilliant white eyes staring. 

“Zayn.” 

Harry breathes, he almost feels guilty, 

“This is Louis.” 

Zayn nods and Louis physically distances himself from both Harry and this new boy. 

“I think it’s time to go home, Harry.” 

Zayn holds out his hand, but Harry instead takes a step back, a step closer to Louis. A step closer to home.

“I am.” 

Harry says, and Zayn rolls his eyes and sighs. 

“I know you were here for a while but Sapphire is not your home.” 

Zayn replies, he’s getting impatient but he’s trying to keep his composure. 

“No, Sapphire is not my home,” 

Harry says, he can see Louis physically deflate at his words out of the corner of his eye, he takes another step closer to Louis and reaches for his hand, which Louis happily takes and Harry smiles. As their hands hold one another Harry looks at Zayn in the eyes. 

“But Louis is.” 

***

Zayn thinks for a moment before breaking out a sunshine smile, flitting his eyes between the two boys.

“So, engagement off then?” 

Zayn chuckles. Harry rolls his eyes, but Louis tears his hand out of Harry’s, 

“You were engaged?” 

He asks, he’s hurt but Harry just takes his hand back and pulls him into a quick hug, 

“No, babe. I was still deciding.” 

Louis tries to wriggle out of the hug but Harry just holds onto him tighter. 

“I dibs best man.” 

Zayn calls, he’s leaving the two alone, he can tell that there is still some unfinished business. 

“I’m not sure that’s the kind of thing you can dibs, mate!” 

Harry chuckles, looking over Louis’ shoulder at Zayn.

“Well I just did, didn’t I?”

And with that he leaves the two princes alone.

Suddenly, it’s awkward between them, Louis steps away from Harry, who just stand there, looking for for something to say. But then Louis kisses him, it’s quick and it’s soft. And by the time Harry realises what’s happened, it’s over. His lips tingle with the loss of contact, and he hold back his pout. It wasn’t enough, wasn’t even nearly enough. But he’s scared, and he doesn’t want to push Louis. He’ll wait for him. No matter how long it takes. 

“I don’t know what happens now.” 

Harry says, it’s quiet, but it’s comfortable, Harry is home, and his body knows it. His skin is warm and his his heart is peaceful. Louis takes a step closer towards him, and places a hand on his cheek, 

“I’m scared.” 

Harry nods, and without thinking, he leans down, and tickles Louis, who drops to the floor laughing. 

“Oh! So that’s how you’re going to play?” 

He screams in joy, but then he pins Harry down and tickles him back. A few seconds go by where the room is filled with pure laughter and joy, it makes Harry think of what their future could be, how happy they could be. Together. And then Louis kisses Harry again. It’s harder this time, it’s months of aching and yearning. And Harry doesn’t hesitate to kiss him back. 

They kiss for a few minutes, both smiling into it. When they pull apart their world is technicolour, a great orange fire, deep ruby drapes, cool beige stone, emerald bedding. Slowly, it fades back to blue, 

“You saw that too?” 

Harry asks, barely breathing. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Louis nod, eyes wide and sparkling.

Soon after, they have forgotten about the colours. They are laying in Louis’ bed, talking about their families, their dreams, their nightmares. Louis is laying on top of Harry’s arm, as Harry traces patterns on Louis forearm. Suddenly, Harry remembers the killings of a few weeks ago. 

“What happened?” 

Louis looks at him, vulnerabilities showing. 

“I don’t know, one day it was illegal, the next there was bodies in the street.” 

Harry holds Louis immediately, he seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to him, he knows that Louis either saw or heard too much. 

“I kept my window open, while th-they-“ 

His sobs take over his words, but Harry doesn’t need to hear the words. He knows what happens. And it kills him, no one should hear that. Ever. 

Later that night, Harry is still in Louis’ bed, he has no where else to sleep, and if he’s being completely honest, sleeping here feels right. Next to the love of his life. Louis turns over to face Harry, he is very much awake, so Harry turns to face him too. 

“You okay, babe?” 

Harry asks, stroking his hair. 

“I don’t know what happens now.” 

He says sheepishly, his eyes are big and make Harry’s heart warm. Harry shrugs, he doesn’t want to rush Louis, especially into any labels. 

“Be mine?” 

The questions startles Harry, who furrows his eyebrows, but his heart is pounding with what Louis might actually be asking.

“I am yours.” 

Louis rolls his eyes, 

“Please don’t make me spell it out.” 

Harry knows what he’s saying, so he decides that he’ll ask the real question, 

“Will you be my boyfriend?” 

The smile that stretches across Louis’ face makes Harry giggle, for the first time he has butterflies in his stomach, and he wishes he could stay like this forever. 

“Boyfriend.” 

Louis whispers, he starts to giggle like a schoolboy and Harry knows that in that moment, he loves Louis. And nothing on this Earth will ever change that. Louis is his, and he is Louis’. They will have a life together. They will be a family. Even if it kills him. 


	13. Chapter 13

In the morning, Harry wakes first, in the morning light he swears Louis could be mistaken for an angel. His  _boyfriend_ could be mistaken for an angel. _Boyfriend_ , he still can’t believe it. The boy next to him is his. It feels like a dream. This has all happened too quickly, but he found him. That’s what matters.

Harry doesn’t have a plan, he came trying to stop the wedding and now he’s hiding in the crown princes room for god knows how long. But he wants to go out, he saw a tattoo design he liked when he got the butterfly, and it’s been playing on his mind for a while. 

Louis begins to stir, causing Harry to realign himself with reality. 

“Hey, you.” 

His blue eyes are sparkling and bluer than normal. Harry places a small peck on Louis’ lips and moves to get up. The world quickly turns technicolour again, but only for a split second, he barely even notices it. However, Louis apparently has other plans and quickly places his arms around his waist, dragging him back under the covers. They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the presence of the other. 

Eventually, they both got up and showered. Louis made his way down to the throne room, as he decided to start eating all meals with his family, mainly so that he didn’t have to hire yet another servant and a possible liability. Harry, on the other hand, made his way down to the kitchens, he kept his head down and no one spoke to him. They knew who he was, knew what was happening. But everyone kept their mouth shut. Louis was kind and one day he will be king. A just and noble king. Why would they do something that could jeopardise that? Jeopardise a potentially better life?

The kitchens were empty as breakfast had been made and served, meaning that most had gone on a break. Everyone except a little blonde haired, rose eyed boy. 

“Harry!” 

He exclaimed the minute he laid eyes on him. 

“Niall!” 

Harry matches his energy, the sweet boy came running over and jumped into Harry’s arms, laughing. 

“You’re back! Thought I’d seen the last of ya!” 

Harry laughs, he’s pleased to see Niall. He trusts Niall, so he decides to tell him the truth. About everything. 

“Fuckin’ hell!” 

Niall exclaims, again. He’s still taking all of the information in. They’re sat on the work surface; a navy wood, legs dangling and swinging. 

“So you and Louis then?” 

Harry nods, trying to hide his smile. Him and Louis. Louis and him. He still can’t believe it, Louis is his. Suddenly, Niall throws his arms around Harry, shaking him out of his thoughts. Harry hugs him back without a moments hesitation, he doesn’t know why they’re hugging, but they both seem to need it. They hold the embrace for a few moments, and Harry knows that Niall will never do anything to hurt him. 

That night Harry is laying in bed with Louis, thoughts racing. 

“Lou?” 

Harry asks quietly, moonlight highlighting his cheekbones. Harry can tell that Louis lost a lot of weight when he wasn’t there. It scares him, his cheeks shouldn’t be that hollow, collar bones shouldn’t be that prominent. Louis rolls over to face Harry, sleep is calling him, but he still mumbles a 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m gunna marry you one day.” 

It’s the first thing Harry has said in a while that he is sure of. He’s going to marry this boy even if it kills him. Louis is practically asleep and Harry isn’t even sure if he heard, not until Louis giggles out a 

“Not if I marry you first.” 

And then the room is full of soft breaths coming from the softest boy. Harry strokes his cheek, then places a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“I love you.”

***

The next morning, before sunrise, the doors to Louis chambers are practically ripped of their hinges. Both boys woke up immediately, still tangled in each other’s arms. 

“Father?!” 

Louis is so shocked that it comes out as a squeak. His father sighs and rubs his temples, there are guards surrounding the bed, and Harry is beginning to hyperventilate. 

“I didn’t want to believe it.” 

Harry’s heart is beating so quickly he can’t hear any of the words being exchanged. He’s going to die. He’s going to die because of his love. 

“Guards. Take him away.” 

The King says, gesturing towards Harry, he can’t even look at him, he’s got his eyes closed tightly. Louis scrambles to hold on to Harry, but Harry just looks at him and whispers, 

“It’s okay. I’m happy. Let me go.” 

He hears Louis cry and wail as he is escorted out of the room, down the stairs and into the dungeon. His feet barely touch the steps as he is dragged down, the guards are holding him so he can’t walk. The dungeon is exactly what you would imagine, it’s small, dark and damp. His cell is a box, with three stone walls, one cell gate, and the floor is covered in stone. A singular wooden stall sits in the corner. The guards throw Harry into the cell, and he lays on the floor, where he finally cries. The guards whisper apologies to Harry as they close the gate.

In the dungeon, Harry is sitting on the cold stone floor, looking up through a small window at the midnight sky and brilliant moonlight. He is content. He will happily die if it meant that Louis were alive. He just hopes that he can see those blue eyes one last time. Eventually, he falls back to sleep, allowing those eyes to guide his dreams. 

Two hours later, there was a banging on the metal gates that kept him in his cell. 

“Not so high and mighty now, are we?” 

The guard taunts, Harry just rolls his eyes. He has no need to talk to these people, they want a rise out of him, and he won’t give it to them.

That afternoon, Harry hears slow footsteps coming down the stairs. Soon after, a pair of pink eyes are peering through the cell at Harry, who immediately gets to his feet, runs over and grabs the fabric on Niall’s chest and pulls him up against the metal bars.

“Was it you?! Did you tell the king?!” 

Harry is furious, he’s shaking, on the verge of tears. He trusted Niall. He wants to still trust Niall. Niall shakes his head violently, 

“No! Of course not! Apparently someone overheard us in the kitchens! I’m in as much danger as you right now!” 

Niall whispers back, and Harry releases the fabric. He sighs as he turns his back on Niall, 

“I’ve really fucked up, Ni.” 

Harry sits down again, putting his head in his hands. 

“Why’ve you come down here?” 

Niall looks around, presumably for any guards. 

“I’ve heard that they’re sending word to you mother.” 

Harry sighs with relief, if they execute him that’ll be means for war, and Harry knows his mother will go to war for him. 

But Harry is also heartbroken, he knows he can never see Louis again, not while his father is King, and Harry will most likely be exiled without seeing Louis again. It’s in that moment that Harry decides to get more tattoos, because if he cannot physically be with Louis, at least his body will tell his story. He will be linked with Louis forever, even if not with a ring or vows. He belongs to Louis, all of him, his body, his soul, his very own spirit is Louis’.


	14. Chapter 14

Two days later and heels echo down the navy stone stairs that lead to his cell. He knows it’s his mother, there is a change in the air, before it was cold and uncertain, now it is strong and unyielding. As she walks around the corner, Harry can see the train of her satin dress flowing down behind her. She is dressed to the tens in emeralds and diamonds. A crown sits atop her head, with her curled hair cascading down her back. 

“Mother.” 

Harry sighs, he is relieved to see her, that is, until he sees her eyes. They’re a deep green, so deep in fact that at first glance Harry thought them to be black. 

“You couldn’t just marry Zayn, could you? You had to continue with all this silliness!” 

She’s calm, too calm. She’s seething, and it’s at this moment that Harry genuinely worries that she might allow for him to be executed. She sighs, 

“You really love him don’t you?” 

“There is nothing in this world that could stop me from loving him. Death itself would not break me.” 

Harry says it with the passion of a thousand years, with the love of a hundred hearts. There is one thing in this world that he is sure of, and it’s that he is in love with the crown prince of Sapphire, and no one, not even his mother, will stand in the way of it. 

Two hours later, his mother has been negotiating with the king over the terms of his release. Harry hears soft footsteps running down the stair and Harry immediately jumps up, seeing the blue eyes once again. 

“Lou!” 

Harry exclaims but Louis quickly hushes him, 

“Shh! Babe, I’m not supposed to be here, I’m not allowed to see you. I have to be quick. You need to leave. When your mother comes down she’s going to tell you that you’ve been exiled, and I want you to go. Leave, Haz. And don’t you dare look back.” 

It’s urgent, and Harry knows why Louis is saying this but it hurts, it stings him to the core. 

“Come with me.” 

Harry whispers back, allowing his emotions to lead his words, allowing his heart to lead his head. He has tears that are threatening to fall, but he blinks them away. Harry places his hands over Louis’, between the cold steel bars. But Louis rips his hands from under Harry’s, his eyes are hard, his face stone. His face has contorted into a vision of disgust, 

“No. Harry. Don’t you understand? I don’t want you here anymore. You were an excuse, that’s all. An excuse to piss off my father, and it worked. I didn’t know what I was, I thought you were important to me, but you’re not. Get that into your head. You were a distraction, nothing more. I don’t want to see you ever again. Get out of my kingdom.” 

“No, you don’t mean that.” 

Harry is trying to stay strong, his brows are furrowed and the hands are trying to touch Louis, but the prince laughs. He laughs at Harry’s words, his eyes are hard, and the sound makes Harry want to throw up. 

“Get a grip. Do you seriously think I cared about you? It was fun, I’ll give you that. But that’s all it was. All it will ever be. Now leave me the fuck alone.” 

The words cut Harry, and they cut Louis too. 

He spits the words, and either he is an impeccable actor or he really means his words, but either way, they break Harry’s heart. Louis turns on his heel, walking towards the steps.

“But, I love you?” 

Harry says, almost asking why that isn’t enough. His words are small, perhaps a little bigger than Harry is feeling in that moment. But Louis laughs, it’s empty and black. It’s a black hole, it sucks every last drop of hope Harry had. Louis doesn’t turn back around, maybe because if he did he’d betray himself. Maybe he was crying. But he kept his voice monotone, void of all emotion. 

“I know. I heard you the last time.” 

Harry swallows, his throat dry, he wants to yell, he wants to cry. But he’s exhausted, these words have kicked the energy out of him. Once Louis he is sure that Harry can’t see his face, he allows the tears to fall, and takes his leave. His head is racing, his thoughts are dark. Why can’t his love be enough? Why isn’t he strong enough for the both of them? That’s his job. He promised to marry the boy behind him, but now, he is saving him. But is it worth it? Because to save him, he has to kill the both of them. 

He walks up the stairs, and back into the throne room, facing the woman in green. 

“I did it. Are you happy?” 

She smiles and nods once, at which point Louis turn back to return to his chambers, but not before turning his face slightly so his side profile is showing, 

“Now get out of my kingdom.” 

***

Two weeks later and Harry is back in Emerald, Louis’ words haunt him dawn, day and night. Just an excuse? Harry doesn’t believe it, he can’t. If he chose to truly believe those words, it would kill him. Didn’t they say they would marry each other? Was that just some kind of sick joke? Was all of this just a joke? No, Harry wouldn’t believe, couldn’t believe it.

Tomorrow was Lizzie’s coronation, it had been pushed back, but once Harry was home, it was planned pretty quickly. The throne room was covered in greenery, a plush velvet carpet led to a raised platform where a solo throne sat. Hanging from the ceiling and climbing the walls were light green orchids, Lizzie’s favourite flower, surrounding by vines of ivy. 

That evening, the future queen enters Harry’s room quietly, the place he’s been since he returned. He’s the ghost of a once happy prince. And she sees it, he might as well have his shattered heart on his bedside table with how well she can read him. He’s laying facing the ceiling on his bed, eyes tracing patterns in the mint paint. She slowly walks over to the bed, carefully climbs atop, lays on her side and nuzzles her face into his shoulder, placing a tender arm over his torso. 

“Don’t treat me any different after tomorrow, okay?” 

She says after a while, he nods, he has no energy to speak, she lifts he head to place a small kiss on his cheek. She moves to leave but he grabs her hand, 

“Stay?” 

He croaks, voice hoarse from all the sobs she hears every night. She nods and resumes her place next to him. He kisses her temple, and they fall asleep holding each other. He hates falling asleep these days, he sees Louis every night. He hears his voice, feels his touch. His heart aches for the boy with the blue eyes, but Harry is hurt, and he doesn’t know how much longer his heart can deal with all the hurt, all the heartbreak. 

The next morning, Harry and Elizabeth are woken early, with their mother yelling about why Elizabeth isn’t in her own room. Harry gets showered and dressed very quickly, he is dressed to the nines in a beautiful green silk suit, he places a royal blue rose in his lapel, his final goodbye to Louis. He makes his way to Lizzie’s room, deciding that he’ll help her get ready, she’s going to need that moral support that she can get. Ten girls are all surrounding her, trying to get her dress perfect, and her hair, and god forbid an eyelash is out of place. She is dressed in a beautiful emerald ball gown, her neck, ears and wrist are dripping in emeralds, and a small diamond and emerald tiara sits atop her head. 

The gown is exquisite, it explodes outwards from her waist, with the bodice stretching through the skirt in a sharp triangle. It’s made of the finest silk, and had a corset-styles top, with black boning on the outside. A siren, Harry thinks. That’s what she is, she isn’t an angel or princess, she’s a strong, beautiful woman with the ability to lure men to their deaths. She’s a siren. 

Her hair is curled in an clean updo, giving the tiara something to grip to. 

“How are we feeling?” 

All the girls gasp and quickly disperse, curtsying on their way out. Lizzie rolls her eyes and laughs, 

“Stressed. And a little bit like a cupcake.” 

She chuckles and moves to give her brother a hug. As they pull apart, she notices the blue flower, and a sad smile plays on her lips. Harry offers her his arm, 

“Shall we?”

She takes a final deep breath and nods as she takes his arm and they make their way downstairs.

Harry enters first, but not before turning around and giving her a reassuring wink. He makes his way to the front, people in every shade of green line the room, and Harry grimaces, he is absolutely sick of the colour. It’s too bright and too garish. He misses the blues, the soft hues of the fire, the deepness of the grass. Green can’t compare to it anymore. 

An elbow nudges him in his rib cage and he turns to cuss them out, but then he sees a familiar set of eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“A second chance.” 

He whispers back, followed by a wink. But before Harry can ask, the doors open and the ceremony starts, music swelling as the siren makes her entrance, walking carefully down the aisle. 

“She’s beautiful.” 

Harry smiles, watching her. She may be older, but he’s prouder. Her eyes contrast the silk strikingly, the opal shines as the green glistens. 

“She’s going to kick ass.” 


	15. Chapter 15

The coronation is the most beautiful event that Harry had ever attended, well, perhaps except the ball in Sapphire. 

Their mother stood at the front of the aisle, to the right of a throne that sat in the middle of a small step at the front of the room. Elizabeth walked down the plush velvet of the aisle, draped over her shoulders is the Kingdoms’ coronation robe, lined with mint faux fur. She holds a pine-gold orb in one hand and a spectre of the same colour in the other. Their mother is wearing a simple emerald dress that reaches the floor, with a mesh shawl covering her shoulders. 

Lizzy walks down the aisle slowly, visibly breathing deeply, trying to calm her nerves. She glances at her brother, who nods encouragingly, smiling. She smiles back, and walks up the step, turning to face the court, and sitting on the throne. Their mother, who is wearing a large crown on her head, takes the headpiece off and holds it in her hands. 

“Madam, is your majesty willing to take the oath?” 

Liz sends one more look Harry’s way, and he nods again, she sits up a bit straighter. 

“I am willing.” 

Their mother smiles widely, clearing her throat, and continuing. 

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the peoples of the Kingdom of Emerald, according to their laws and customs?”

“I solemnly promise so to do.” 

“Will you, to your power cause law and justice, in mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?”

“I will.” 

Their mother smiles, breathes a sigh of relief, moves to stand in front of Elizabeth, and carefully places the crown on her head. Liz slowly rises out of the throne, and their mother kisses her on the cheek, curtseys, and moves back to the side. Liz addresses the room, 

“The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep. So help me God.” 

The room bows to their new Queen and says that age-old phase;

“Long live the Queen.” 

The evening after the coronation, everyone is sat at the banquet. Lizzie sits at the head of the table, with their father on one side and mother on the other, with Harry next to her. In a low tone he whispers a 

“Why is he here, mother?” 

He’s angry, it’s obvious. Her eyes are still a deep emerald, they almost make him back off, but the blue rose on his chest reminds him of exactly who he is, of why he’s doing this. Of exactly what everything is for. He keeps his eyes fixed on his mother’s, it’s a battle of will, and Harry will win. He has outgrown his mother, this palace, outgrown this kingdom. Suddenly, his mother’s eyes turn back to their normal brown, and she looks away, almost as if in pain. Went she looks back, her eyes widen. There’s something in Harry’s eyes that have scared her, but Harry doesn’t care, he’s furious at the boy sitting across from him. 

“Why is he here?” 

He asks again, sickly calm, his mother sighs and shakes her head, 

“We just thought-“ 

“What?! That I’d be happy to marry him, after everything?” 

Harry snaps, people have started to look, but the white eyes are focused on his plate, refusing to pay attention to the situation unfolding before him. His mother hisses a;

“Not now!”

And that’s the end of it.

That night, Harry is laying in bed, tossing and turning. His bedroom is in disarray, he spent the evening taking his anger out on his picture frames, his pillows, and his mirror. His hands are cut from all the glass but he can’t feel it, the only pain he feels is the uncontrollable one in his chest. His sobs are circling his thoughts, his thoughts of those stupid blue eyes. He wishes he could forget, forget the last month, wishes that he could just sleep one night and not be met by those fucking eyes. He misses sleep, he does anything he can not to sleep nowadays. But then his thought wander, and those eyes are still haunted his reality. And he’s so unbelievably sick of it. Why did he ever have to meet him. His life would’ve been so much easier if he had never met a certain Louis Tomlinson. 

A soft knock comes, and Harry just calls out to say they can come in. A boy with white eyes and strong aftershave stands at his door, moonlight giving him a kind of halo. 

“Zayn?” 

“I heard you crying.” 

“I can’t do this.” 

Harry looks to his friend, his tear stained face physically hurts Zayn, who slowly moves towards him. He crawls onto the bed, and just holds Harry, who accepts the warmth happily. 

The next morning, Harry wakes up next to a weight in his bed, with his eyes closed he can imagine himself back in Sapphire, snuggled next to Louis, sunlight streaming through an open window, a small peck waking him up. He opens his eyes and sees an old friend, his heart drops. He knows he shouldn’t have hoped for Louis, but his heart aches for him. Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder was a liar. It makes the heart grow sadder.Zayn smells like everything he should, he smells like a man, but the musky aftershave gives Harry a headache. Because he’s so tired of having everything that should be perfect. He has the perfect kingdom, the perfect match, the perfect life. But he doesn’t, does he? His kingdom is too green, and far too rich, which makes the people insufferable. His “perfect match” is a man who says all the right things when Harry wants the wrong thing. His perfect life is in the wrong kingdom, next to the wrong man. 

The day passes before Harry’s eyes, he’s attending meetings with Lizzie, and fake smiling, which is all he seems to do, day in, day out. Day turns to night quickly, and Harry just doesn’t care. His feet are taking him from room to room but his mind is still in that bed, with that man, with those blue eyes and the dawn. Harry makes his way to his chambers, but before he enters, he notices a piece of paper stuck to his door. 

“Meet me in the gardens.” 

Harry sighs and turns back, taking his time to get to the gardens. 

He walks down the mint green stone steps out the back of the palace and sees candles carving out a walkway deep into the gardens. He follows the candles, walking in the middle, candles on each side of him, forming a pathway. Eventually he sees a man standing, candles circling him. 

“What’s all this?” 

Harry asks, white eyes stare back at him, almost as if they’re battling the moon for brightness. Zayn takes a deep breath and slowly gets down on one knee, he takes Harry’s hand in one of his, using the other to reach into his pocket. Harry sucks in a quick breath, regretting every choice that led him here. This is wrong. So very wrong. 

“I know I’m not the one you want, but I think I can make you happy, and I know you can make me happy. Do you think you could come around to me?” 

Harry sighs, weighing up his options. 

“Yeah.” 

Zayn beams at his answer and brings out a small white velvet box. He opens it and inside is a white gold infinity ring with small emeralds inbetween diamonds. It was annoyingly beautiful, it was Zayn, kneeling in the candlelight. Everything that Harry should want, but makes him want to throw up. It all just turns his stomach. 

“In that case, Harry Styles, will you marry me?” 

Harry closes his eyes right shut, begging for this nightmare to be over. But Zayn is his only choice, and perhaps his only chance at moving on. 

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

And the second the words leave his mouth he wishes he could shove them back in. Zayn beams as he gets to his feet, slides the ring on Harry’s finger, and envelopes him in a hug. A hug that’s too tight. His aftershave chokes him and his life flashes before his eyes. A life without blue. 

***

Two months pass since the engagement, and Harry is finally feeling happier, it’s all a very welcome distraction. He’s finally looking towards his future - without Louis. He spends his days in meetings, hearing about the killings still going on in Sapphire, everyday he waits to hear Louis’ named as one of the dead, and everyday he is relieved. 

Planning for his wedding has begun, white and green flowers are lined up day after day for Harry to choose from. He plays the happy fiancé, everyone believes him, even Zayn is beginning to believe him. Everyone except Lizzie, who calls him into the throne room one day. 

“Hey, Liz,” 

Harry smiles walking up the carpet to where Lizzie is sitting on her throne. 

“What’s this about?” 

Elizabeth gets up and moves towards Harry, she places her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look into her eyes - they’ve finally settled to a beautiful sunset orange, showing her true place is Sunstone, the kingdom named cheerful, caring and careful. 

“I know mum and dad have started to plan your wedding to Zayn, but it will not happen, not without my blessing.” 

Harry physically relaxes and falls into her arms, facade melting away as the tears he’s kept in for so long begin to fall. That gives him time. Time for what? He doesn’t exactly know. Maybe to find a way out. A way back. Louis is waiting for him, he just knows it. He has to be. Because Harry is waiting for him. 

Two more months pass, and Harry suddenly wakes in a cold sweat one morning, the blue eyes are scared, they’re terrified. It’s been exactly six months since he met Louis, and it feels like yesterday. Suddenly, Lizzie’s runs unto his room in her robe, eyes ablaze. 

“Harry. Throne room. Now!” 

She yells and runs down the hall barefoot. Harry follows suit, still dressed in green pyjama bottoms and a black tank top. His new tattoos visible on his arms. 

Inside the throne room, everyone is standing around, all still dressed in their sleepwear.

“What’s going on, Liz?” 

“I’ve had word from Sapphire.” 

Everyone turns to look at Harry, Zayn grabs his hand, it’s more possessive than comforting. Harry tries to subtly wriggle out of his grasp, but his grip just tightens. 

“The King is dead.” 

And Zayn drops Harry’s hand.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry doesn’t react. His mind goes blank. He’s thought about this moment since he left, he imagined he’d immediately run to Louis, he’d imagined fireworks going off. But instead, he nods, kisses Zayn on the cheek, turns on his heel, and goes back to bed. Leaving a multitude of shocked faces and a million questions in his wake. He’s numb. He wants to feel. Feel something. Anything. 

“Harry?” 

It’s Lizzie’s voice, he wants to pause, to tell her that everything is fine, that he’s okay. But he doesn’t. Because he’s not.

Four hours later and Harry finally emerges from his room, he’s showered and dressed. His hair has grown much more than anyone - including Harry - had noticed, but he didn’t hate it. It hit his shoulders, just long enough to tie up, it makes him smile, Louis would love his hair. He’s dressed in navy blue jeans and a lime green jumper, he looks at himself in his cracked mirror, straightening out his jumper. He smirks at his reflection, thinking of how well the colours mesh and as he enters the throne room for his first meeting of the day, the room looks at him, with audible gasps escaping certain mouths. Harry smirks as he hears the violent whispers swirl around him, he expected someone to say something, and as someone went to, a smug Elizabeth put her hand out as if to say that no one is to say a thing. He meets her amber eyes and they share a secret pridefulness between them. Elizabeth nods, and Harry takes a seat next to her.

As Harry looks around the room, he realises that there’s someone still staring at him, white eyes ablaze. He’s angry. Not just angry; furious. And honestly? Harry just doesn’t care. He inwardly shrugs his shoulders and looks away. Louis is free. And that is all Harry cares about. Louis is free.

His baby is free. 

After the meeting, Zayn takes Harry aside, he’s practically shaking from anger. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

He spits. He’s leaning over Harry, so close that his aftershave wraps around Harry’s throat, choking him. Zayn has a hand holding onto Harry’s upper arm, tightening with every passing minute. 

“Excuse me?” 

Harry is trying to hold his composure but can feel a bruise forming under Zayn’s fingertips. “Blue jeans? FUCKING BLUE?! What are you playing at?” 

Harry is scared, for the first time in a long time. Harry is scared. He can feel tears beginning to form, but then he remembers why he wore the colour in the first place. And before he knows what he’s doing, a hand has made its way across Zayn’s face, leaving a cut lip in its wake. 

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me. I don’t belong to you. You knew what you were getting into.” 

Harry snarls in Zayn’s ear, and feels him begin to let go. But before Zayn can fully release him, Harry has already ripped his arm out of his grip. 

“Engagement off.” 

And there is a ringing on the floor that echoes through the hallway, a small ring lays where Harry was standing, and Zayn just stares at it. It looks dull, and small. 

Harry is angry, he’s seething at his edges. But he mostly angry at himself, he can understand why Zayn is upset. Harry’d be upset if someone had made a promise to him and then publicly supported someone else. Harry isn’t excusing him, but he gets it. If anyone gets it, he does. Maybe it was wrong of Harry to support Louis quite so publicly, but he can’t help it, all he thinks, all he breathes is blue. Is Louis. 

***

In Sapphire, Louis had been awoken in the middle of the night by a nobleman, telling him to quickly come to the throne room. Once there, dressed in a navy dressing gown, everyone gets down on one knee and bows their heads to him, 

“The King is dead. Long live the king.” 

They all chanted, and Louis caught on pretty quickly. He had to stop himself from smiling, he caught the eye of his sister who smirked and slowly curtseyed. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief. _Is this what freedom feels like?_

Louis later learned - once he had gone back to bed and slept like he was dead - that his father had suffered a heart attack during the night, and his servants found him dead in the morning. Louis was still in shock, his mind blank. He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. His first words as king came when a servant walked past him, and before he could think, he blurted a;

“Send word to Emerald; the king is dead.” 

The servant nodded and walked quickly away, presumably to send a message to the neighbouring kingdom. He sighed with delight, he was free and Harry could come back. They could be free together. The relief washed over him like a tidal wave, it almost knocked him off his feet. All he could think of was Harry, how was he? Had he moved on? Would he return?

Louis then spent the day trying to understand all of his kingly duties, and it became very apparent very quickly that he was in no way prepared for his role. He was sitting in yet another meeting when he remembered what had been going on, and was still going on. He couldn’t quite believe he’s even forgotten the destruction his father had caused, he was ashamed of himself, he’d already failed. Still, he jumped out of his chair (throne, really.) and banged his hands on the table, causing a hush to cover the room, 

“From this moment forward, Homosexuality is legal,” 

He motioned for a guard to come closer and in a low tone ordered, 

“I need the arrests to cease and for anyone currently imprisoned for homosexual relations to be released. Do you understand?” 

The guard nodded and left the room in quite a haste. It was at this moment that the council around him began to share their thoughts.

“Your majesty, this law was put in place by your father to protect us all!” 

One man protested, but Louis sent a stern glare his way and the room once again was silenced. He could feel his blood boil with the fury of a thousand kings, his eyes glowed in the sunlight and he could feel them physically change, it felt right, the council members all averted their eyes, refusing to meet his, smirking, he smugly asked one council member nonchalantly, 

“Protect you from what, exactly?” 

“W-Well, you know, being prayed upon.” 

He stuttered, and Louis laughed a low, sinister laugh. It made the faces of the old men go a stark white and their hands tremble. It was a growl, a warning. Like the lightning before the thunder, that’s what Louis is; the silence that follows the lightning, he’s the eye of the storm. He was enjoying this, taunting this old men. Enjoying his power, revelling in it even. He looked at his nails as he talked more.

“Now, answer me this, have I ever prayed upon you?” 

The gasps that followed made Louis inwardly smirked, trying not to burst out laughing. 

“N-no, your highness.” 

“Your majesty!” 

Louis snapped, eyes ablaze. Louis felt them change some more, in his reflection in the window he could see that his eyes were no longer the calm blue of before, but now a bright, dazzling green, something had shifted in him and it made him feel powerful. But there was something else in the eyes that stared back at him; a sweetness behind them. _Harry_.

“If you disagree with my decision, please tell me. Because I will be arresting you and anyone who is homophobic in this kingdom. Who you love is not a crime, nor will it ever be. Now, please, get out.” 

And with a flick of his wrist the throne room emptied in thirty seconds flat. The view of twenty middle aged men scrambling around collecting paper and yelling for others to move made Louis’ year, and he finally felt powerful. He felt seen for the first time since he sent Harry away. He liked it. He knew he could make a change, and that change would start with the council members, taking out a list of every member he muttered to himself 

“Much too old for my liking.” 

He hears a giggle from behind him as he starts to write down the names of possible new council members. He turned around in his seat and meets the eyes of his sister. 

“Georgia? Hey, sweetheart, what’s up?” 

He gestures for her to sit next to him, it’s a seat reserved for a council members only, it’s a navy oak chair, where no one is ever allowed to sit, no matter whether council is in session or not. 

“What are you doing?” 

She asks as she hesitantly takes a seat, she peers over Louis arm as he smirks at her, 

“Fancy being a council member?” 

“Me?” 

She points to her chest as Louis beams and nods, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Yeah, of course. How about it?” 

She breathes heavily as she opens and closes her mouth, obviously lost for words. She launches herself into Louis arms, giving her brother a tight cuddle, 

“I’d love to!” 

Louis laughs, it’s a warm, sunny sound, and he writes her name down next to a crossed out one.

Louis spent the rest of the day with his people, he went to every single house and talked to every single family, asking them for their input and opinions on anything and everything. He asked for forgiveness. He needed their forgiveness, for the horrors still happened in his kingdom and he didn’t put a stop to it. He felt guilty. He felt dirty. He knew that nothing in his lifetime could ever make up for what his father put his people through, but he’d damn well try. He had asked for guards to give out money to every family, and reduced the taxes. Sapphire was about to become a better place, as was the world. He also had to start on the funeral plans, not that the man deserved it, but Louis wanted to give his people a chance to mourn or you know.. spit on his grave? Either way, he was getting a funeral and then he was being forgotten. 

Later that night he received a message, it read; _We’ll tell him_. And Louis let his tears consume him, and sobbed well into the night, note clutched to his chest, exhaustion overcoming him. He didn’t know why he was crying, was it the lack of sleep? The death of his father? Harry? The tears swept him off to sleep, where he met those green eyes once again. 


	17. Chapter 17

In Emerald, Harry sat in his room, staring at the wall, hugging his knees. He thought he’d be rushing around, packing, getting ready to see his real home again, but he wasn’t. Louis is king. So what? Why would that change anything? 

Harry is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear his door open and close. He doesn’t even realise that there is another person inside until a manicured hand rests on his shoulder. 

“What are you doing, H?” 

His sister asks, she tenderly rubs her thumb over his shoulder. He moves his hand to hold hers and sighs, not meeting her eyes, 

“I don’t know.” 

“Why haven’t you gone to him?” 

Harry shrugged, Lizzie could tell that he was trying not to cry, 

“It’s okay to love him.” 

Harry shook his head, tears beginning to fall,

“I’m not sure it is.” 

“Harry, you’re miserable without him. I can see it, honey, you don’t just love him, your soul belongs with him. You’re aching for him.” 

He looked up at the amber eyes of his beloved sister, stands up, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She chuckled and whispered into his curls, 

“What the hell are you still doing here?” 

He pulled away rapidly, eyes wide. He’s realised that he’s just wasted so much time. He could’ve be with Louis by now, but no he had to stay here and think. He mentally slaps himself and rolls his eyes as his sister starts to giggle at him, she playfully slaps him, 

“Better start packing!” 

Harry spent the next thirty minutes running around his room, grabbing any clean clothing and flinging it into a bag. He was manic, anyone who walked in, would watch him for a second and then back out very quietly. Once he’s finished packing, he runs down the hall and no one stands in his way. Outside, Lizzie is standing next to an emerald motorcycle, helmet in hand. 

“Go get him.” 

He sees his mother at the top of the stairs, looking down at him. She’s glaring at him and his sister, but he just smirks in response, raises his eyebrows and hugs his sister one last time.

He arrived to the border, and took a deep breath. He was about to see Louis again. He didn’t turn around like last time, he’s seen enough of Emerald to last a lifetime. He’s about to see the blues of his true home again. He doesn’t think that 100 years in Sapphire would ever be enough to really appreciate its beauty. He drove slowly over the border and sighed, he felt free. It felt right. The blue sky was anything but normal, it was outstanding and removed his helmet to lift his head to it and shut his eyes. He breathed in the fresh air, it felt crisper than the air in Emerald. He sat like that for a while, taking it all in. 

Three hours later there’s a buzz in Sapphire, and Louis starts to notice. However, before he can find someone to ask, a guard bursts through the throne room doors, breathing heavily. Louis runs up to him and immediately demands to know what’s going on, heart beating fast, 

“He’s returned, Majesty!” 

Louis goes numb at his words, his heartbeat is in his ears, he can’t hear anything anymore. His mind goes blank, he doesn’t move. There’s muffled words coming from around him but he doesn’t care. Harry’s back. He actually came back. But what happens now? They’re free to love, but at what price? 

“Your majesty?!” 

The guard in front of him raises his voice and cuts through Louis’ thoughts. Louis’ eyes snap up to meet the guards, who’s brows are furrowed and he gestures to the doors, 

“Right.” 

Louis nods and takes off in a sprint down the hallway, running to the cheers of the people in the castle. Everyone he passes stop and cheers, claps, yells. Anything. The servants love Louis, and want him happy. With every step the cheers get louder and his confidence gets stronger. His footsteps thump down the hall, _just one step closer._ He’s here, actually here. He’s not some dream anymore. 

Louis runs through the halls of his palace, ignoring those calling after him, he’s crying, he’s shaking, he’s uncontrollable. He’s running so quick that he almost falls when he sees the tall boy standing at the end of the hallway, back facing him, his hair has grown and is almost passed his shoulders, it’s so beautiful.

“Harry!” 

The boy turns and before either can think a single thought, they’re running to each other, when they meet Harry flings himself on Louis, wrapping his legs around his waist. 

“Louis!” 

Harry sobs into Louis’ shoulder, who just holds him that much tighter, curls tickling his neck. 

“I’ve missed you, my baby.”

***

Minutes later and they’re still stuck in their embrace, 

“I never should have left.” 

Harry mumbles into Louis shoulder. He just shakes his head, and softly strokes Harry’s hair, 

“I made you.” 

Harry sighs and snuggles into Louis harder. Louis couldn’t help but think of all those words he said to make Harry leave. He was ashamed of himself, those words hurt Harry, and he’d promised himself he’d never hurt him. But he did. He had betrayed himself, and for that he will never forgive. 

Night had started to fall, so Louis took Harry’s hand and led him though the maze that was his home, they reached Louis’ bedroom door, but he then hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. 

“You don’t have to sleep in the same bed as me if you’re not rea-“ 

He was cut off by Harry’s lips on his. Louis closed his eyes almost immediately, it was a reflex at this point. Harry’s hands were holding Louis’ face, they pulled apart but Harry’s hands stayed cupping Louis cheeks, and Harry said in a soft voice, pressing his forehead against Louis’

“I’ve wasted this much time being apart from you, I’m yours, only ever yours.” 

They were used to the colour explosion that happened when they kissed, so neither mentioned it. But Louis likes seeing the real colours of his home, the sun was setting and he could see the burning sun, with its golden halo. His world was beautiful. Harry made his world beautiful. Louis smiled and nods, leading him inside, giving him the chance to shower and change before the dinner, Louis could feel a lump in his chest, the Harry shaped hole in his heart was finally healing and he felt whole again. Whole because Harry was here, Harry had kissed him. Harry wanted him. Maybe everything will be fine after all. Or, y’know, maybe not.

At dinner, Louis sits in the middle of a long wooden table, and immediately seats Harry on his right, the seat usually reserved for the Queen, causing a few gasps and confused whispers to come from the crowd around him. Louis took no notice of them, all he could see was Harry, all he cared about was Harry, who looks around at the crowd, begging for a familiar face, for he heard the whispers and they set his nerves on fire. Four familiar faces surround him, one had white blonde hair and black eyes, the eyes of Onyx. The other three each had deep brown hair and bright blue eyes, the eyes of their brother. The two youngest looking were identical twins. The eldest presented her hand for Harry to shake, 

“Hi. I’m Georgia. This,” 

She gestures for the girl who seems to be second oldest, 

“is Harriet. These two are,” 

She moves onto the twins, who are currently squabbling over something, completely ignoring Harry. 

“Rose and Lily.” 

Harry nods and smiles at each of the girls. He shakes their hands as they move on to greet Louis, but Harry notices a glare lingering on him, black eyes almost full of hate. Harry looks down at his lap, feeling somewhat ashamed for leaving Louis when he did. He knows what happened but did she? Was she aware why he had to leave? She would’ve been old enough to understand so why was she so angry? 

Louis notices this shift in demeanour and immediately puts a comforting hand over Harry’s. 

“What happens now, Lou?” 

His voice is soft and almost child-like, Louis realises that the man he loves is now walking on eggshells around him, and he suddenly wishes he could take all of the hurt back. 

“What do you mean?” 

His brows are furrowed in confusion, Harry has wide eyes and Louis regrets every word, every syllable. 

“What am I doing here, Lou? Why am I back? You didn’t want me.” 

He can’t quite pinpoint Harry’s tone, it isn’t angry - not quite, it’s something else, something deeper. Louis looks to the floor, he did say that, didn’t he? What was he thinking? How could he even think that let alone say it? How dare Harry’s mother make him say that. Should he tell Harry he didn’t want to say it? No. Louis isn’t that kind of person. That’s a secret he’ll take to the grave, there’s no reason to hurt Harry any more. 

“You know, I never meant a word when I said I that. You’re my person.” 

Harry nods, expression sad. Louis sighs, he knows there’s nothing he can say to take it all away, but he wishes there was. All he can do is hope that time is a good healer.

Harry moves his hand to start eating, causing his sleeve to move closer to his elbow, and Louis notices a new tattoo on his wrist. Just above his “I can’t change” ink, is a large anchor and it grips Louis by the throat. He can’t breathe, his heart is quickening, 

“An a-anchor?” 

Louis is gasping for air. Harry looks at him, brows furrowed and nods slowly, 

“Yeah, why?” 

Louis carefully raises his right sleeve to show a rope twisted into an infinity sign, 

“Two weeks ago I had the image of this rope in my head and it wouldn’t get out until I had it done.” 

Louis speaks quickly, begging for Harry to put his silent idea to rest. But instead, Harry, eyes wide, asks 

“What day?” 

“Friday.” 

Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat and he has to cough it out. 

“I got mine done Thursday.” 

Louis looks at Harry’s eyes, and now realises that they have very distinct traces of blue.


	18. Chapter 18

The funeral follows Harry’s return, and Louis tries every possible way to avoid a funeral, but Harry refuses. Every. Single. Time. The morning of the funeral is lighter than Louis thought it would be, in both atmosphere and weather. Louis just assume his father would be the kind of man that gets one last _fuck you_ in, dead or not. Louis wakes up early, showers, and gets dressed in a black velvet suit, only then does he wake Harry up, with a soft kiss on the lips as the morning sun streams in though the windows. 

“Morning, sunshine.” 

Harry murmurs, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

“You’re up early.” 

Louis shrugs as Harry drags his eyes down Louis’ body, sitting up quickly as realisation dawns on his face. 

“Oh fuck! Am I late?” 

Louis blinks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“For what?” 

Harry rolls his eyes as he pulls the covers off his body. 

“The funeral.” 

“You’re coming?” 

Harry stops in his tracks.

“Am I not invited?” 

Louis swallows hard, loosening his tie slightly, as Harry places his hands on his hips and cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d want to be there. You know, for the man who wanted you killed.” 

Harry chuckles and moves towards Louis, kissing him on his head.

“I’m not going for _him_ , I’m going for you. But if you don’t want me there-“ 

Louis kissed Harry deeply, placing his hands on either side of Harry’s face.

“I would love it if you were there.”

Harry smiled, nodded, and grabbed a silk black suit out of the wardrobe.

“Then I’m there.” 

The funeral was not a sad affair, Louis didn’t see a tear in sight, but he definitely saw a few smiles. No one apologised to him and once the casket was in the ground, he shrugged, kissed Harry on the cheek, turned to address his guests;

“Celebration dinner in the palace. Everyone is welcome, let’s embrace the new times now that he’s safely in the ground!” 

The cheers that followed made Louis laugh, excited for the years to come. A new rule. A great outlook. A safe and happy kingdom. That’s what his death means. Death to old opinions. 

Two weeks soon pass and it’s the most blissful two weeks of Louis’ life. He never felt like a king, he had responsibilities and he fulfilled them but every spare second would be spent at Harry’s side. They took walks in the garden, spent time playing with his siblings. The two youngest adored Harry, and Louis adored the picture. He could see them as a family. There and then, he knew, Harry was his past, present and future. There would never be anyone else for him. This was it. Harry was it.

He still wasn’t sure if Harry had fully forgiven him for all those words he spoke so long ago, but he does everything in his power to show that Harry is loved. Everything except say those three words. Harry hasn’t said it either, he thinks their both just waiting. What for? Who knows. They’re getting used to each other again, Harry can feel eyes lingering on him when he walks down the hall, and Louis has whispers follow him. The kingdom isn’t used to their relationship, how can they be? How can people go from homosexuality being illegal to having a king in love with a prince? A king in love with a prince. Louis thinks it’s a wonderful thing, the power they represent. It makes him smirk. 

Every morning, Louis wakes up before Harry just to stare at him in the sunlight. He can’t help but think how much blue suits him, and how beautiful he is when he sleeps. He mumbles softly, especially when Louis moves away, almost groaning at the loss of heat. Louis likes to just admire Harry in the silence that is the early morning, with his soft hair, glowing skin and soft breaths. Louis heart aches with love every morning, but when Harry starts to stir, he still can’t mutter those words, and he wonders just how easy it was for Harry, and just how much Louis must’ve hurt him. 

One morning, Harry realises Louis is watching him sleep, 

“Don’t do that, it’s creepy.” 

He mumbles into his pillow, Louis rolls his eyes playfully and kisses the back of Harry’s ear, nuzzling into his messy curls, 

“Well, you’re not supposed to be awake.” Harry chuckles at the contact and opens his eyes to fondly look at Louis, 

“That makes it more creepy.” 

Louis lays back down and turns on his side to match Harry’s eyes. 

“We’ve been invited to a wedding.” 

Louis says quietly, Harry furrows his brows and turns to face Louis. 

“Whose?” 

“Eleanors.” 

“No way!” 

A smile spreads across Harry’s face, and Louis pokes his dimple, causing a giggle to erupt from the boy. 

“When?” 

Louis looks away, biting his lip gently, knowing Harry is going to berate him for his time management, or perhaps lack thereof. “Tomorrow..” 

Harry’s eyes widened immediately, tears the covers off of his body and leapt out of bed. Wearing just pyjama bottoms he ran around the bedroom tearing clothes off of hangers and stuffing them into a suitcase, all while yelling a 

“TOMORROW?! TOMORROW?! IT TAKES A DAY TO GET THERE!” 

Louis couldn’t help but laugh at Harry’s ridiculousness. 

“Calm down, love!” 

But this was met with a very exasperated, “CALM DOWN?! GET OFF YOUR ASS AND PACK!” 

Louis could hear the edge of seriousness in Harry’s voice and so very quickly were they packed, dressed and on their way to Heliodor. Both dressed in simple blue jeans and hoodies, it’s a long journey, why would they wear their nice suits? 

Inside the car - which Emerald had presented to Sapphire on the news of the kings death - Harry was sat, arms crossed, refusing to look at Louis, who was gradually getting cuter and cuter by the minute, egged on by Harry’s seriousness. 

“C’mon, Haz. Don’t be mad.” 

Harry still refused to look at Louis, 

“If we’re late, I swear to god Lou, I will kill you.” Louis could see a smile playing at the edges of Harry’s lips, and decided to nudge him in his side with his elbow. This makes Harry blurt a small giggle and Louis physically relaxes at the sound. He watches Harry and wants to tell him there and then. But he doesn’t. Like an idiot, he doesn’t. He loves Harry, he knows he does. But he’s too scared to speak it into existence. It’s on the top of his tongue. He wants to reach out, wants to never let go. Wants to scream his love, scream those unspoken words, but he’s silent. How could he ever put how he feels into words? How could anyone? 

The journey from Sapphire to Heliodor should take eight hours, but considering who Louis and Harry are - both their personalities and their level of fame - it took closer to twelve for them to reach the golden palace where the wedding is to be held, they stopped whenever they could to talk to as many people as they could. Everyone who supports them or anyone Louis could help. Every. Single. Time.

The castle itself was grander than even Harry’s, it glistened in the sunset, looking almost gold-plated, Harry even wondered if it was covered in real gold. The palace was surrounded by daisy coloured mansions, and both boys were rendered speechless. 

Both left the car, mouths agape. They slowly climb the stairs to the castle, turning around to take in all the surroundings. The trees are a bright yellow, with mustard trunks, and they surround every house. Below these trees are a multitude of beautiful flowers, all in differing shades of yellow and gold. Harry now understands where Eleanor gets her beauty from. 

Inside the castle is just as breathtaking as the outside, a golden plush carpet lines the hallway floor, with giant portraits of past monarchs line the walls on either side. At the end of this hallway stand an old friend with golden eyes and long hair, holding the hand of a rose-eyed, short haired girl. 

Eleanor runs to the boys, dragging the girl behind her, eventually she releases her hand and throws her arms around both Louis and Harry, beaming. 

“My boys!” 

She sighs with delight, pulls away and retakes the girls hand. Louis then recognises the girl as Eleanors best friend, of whom he’d seen in Sapphire, following her around, smiling at her every word. 

“This is Ella, my fiancé.” 

The boys look to each other, stunned. Both minds are blank. Where? When? What?

*** 

“Oh cool!” 

Harry exclaims and throws his arms firstly around Eleanor and then Ella. Whereas, Louis is stuck firmly in place, this news has surprised him. However, with a quick nudge from Harry, he snaps out of it and copies Harry in his cuddles. 

“I’m so happy for you, congratulations!” 

It becomes very obvious very quickly that Ella is shy, and prefers to just stick by Eleanor. She’s beautiful, with bright pink eyes and short jaw-length hair. She looks around the same age as Eleanor and Louis can’t help but note how wonderful they look together. Harry realises thar Ella was Eleanors maid, a girl who always followed her around, he remembers her from the forest, the girl who looked at Eleanor the same way he looked at Louis.

Eleanor comes up to Louis after they’ve all eaten and asks for a talk in private, of which he fully consents to. 

“So, you seemed shocked when I introduced Ella as my fiancé..” 

Louis nods, he looks almost ashamed, 

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that you said you loved me only a few months ago and now you’re getting married to a woman tomorrow. But sexuality is fluid, I’m sorry for even having the thought.” 

He’s mumbling and rushing his words, he’s so scared to sound like his father, but Eleanor places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, 

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re still learning, we all are! Besides, it’s not like we discussed my sexuality!” 

Louis relaxes under her touch and pulls her into a quick cuddle. 

“Got over me pretty quick then, eh?” 

Eleanor chuckles into his shoulder, and whispers a 

“Looking back, I don’t think I really loved you. I think I thought I was supposed to love you. But seeing you with Harry made me realise what love looked like. And what it felt like, there’s only one person in this world that I would go through all you did for. And that person is Ella. And, thinking about it, best friends really don’t act the way we do.” 

Louis pulls away with the softest smile plastered across his face, 

“And that’s what we call internalised homophobia.” 

They share a laugh and Louis has never felt more comfortable to be alone with her. Her eyes are glowing, she looks so happy and more beautiful than ever, 

“So you and Harry finally realised it then?” She nudges him in the rib cage and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Of course! He’s my soulmate.” 

Louis says, a slight annoyance at the idea of soulmate drips off of his words. Eleanor suddenly gets very serious, turns to face him and places both hands delicately on his shoulders. 

“He’s not your soulmate, Lou.” 

He looks at her with such confusion that it almost puts her off, 

“What?” 

“Your soul and his are one.” 

Louis waits for Eleanor to crack a smile to show that she was just playing but instead her eyes stay dark, the air around them still serious.

“What are you talking about, El?” 

“Come with me.” 

She rushes off down the hallway and Louis has to jog to keep up. 

Eventually they reach giant double doors, which Eleanor pushes open to reveal a library that made Louis’ jaw drop. Eleanor walks straight in but Louis is turning in circles trying to see every bookcase and cranny. It’s two stories of hundreds of thousands of books, the ceiling is glass, and the setting sun streams in, a halo forming around Eleanors head.

“Can I live here?” 

Once the magic of the library had worn off, Eleanor had sat Louis down at a table, and taken out a rather large, green, leather bound book. 

“You really think that Merlin, the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the Earth, didn’t know details?” 


	19. Chapter 19

“You’re telling me he knew everything, even our names, and then proceeded to write it all down? And I didn’t even KNOW?!”

Eleanor was trying so hard not to laugh at the absolute ridiculousness of the situation, and Louis’ outbursts were just the cherry on top. Louis was up and pacing around the library, head in hands. 

“Look, once the prophecy was discovered, every kingdom - including yours and Harry’s - agreed to publish it everywhere except for the Royal Houses in your kingdoms. It was to aid in an unbiased naming ceremony.” 

Louis shakes his head, he’s angry. Not at Eleanor, but at the idea that he could be so gullible. 

“But once Harry was born, the royal families were then given the prophecy so that they knew what was coming.” 

Louis now stands still, staring her down. 

“So everyone knew except Harry and I?” Eleanor nods, she feels guilty over a decision she knew she didn’t make. 

“It’s part of the prophecy, Lou. You had to come together on your own.” 

“What about Liam?” 

“Oh Liam’s an idiot, he slipped up. But we all agreed to tell you very little. I’m sorry.” 

Louis sighs and flings himself in a chair, placing his head in his hands again. 

“So we were inevitable?” 

Eleanor chuckles, she’s concerned for how badly Louis seems to be taking this news. 

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” 

Louis scoffs and looks away, 

“I just want one thing in my life, just one thing, to not be decided for me.” 

Louis takes a few minutes to let his thoughts flow, they don’t talk, their breathing matches in the silence of the library. Eleanor moves closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, she gradually moves her hand to caress his cheek. He leans into her hand, and Eleanor thinks of how much he resembles a kitten. 

Later that night, Louis is getting ready for bed when Harry runs in, panicked. His green eyes are wide and he’s shaking. 

“Harry? Babe? What’s wrong?” 

Louis walks towards Harry carefully, he doesn’t want to spook him. The way a hunter approaches a deer. 

“Haven’t you heard?” 

Harry whispers, his voice trembles with every word. Louis almost ignores Harry’s question, his focus and concern is trying to calm Harry down. 

“Louis. There’s something going on.” 

His voice is low, serious, his green eyes have darkened to a deep moss, but the blue streaks seem to almost glow. It startles Louis, he doesn’t know what to do, what to say. 

“What’s happened?” 

Louis matches Harry’s tone, and the air around them darkens. 

“Other kingdoms heard of the unlawful killings of your father,” 

Louis eyes widen, he knew what his father did would anger other kingdoms, but he just assumed that any discomfort would have fizzled out with his death. 

“They’re planning to declare war upon Sapphire.”

Louis breathes deeply, choosing the next question carefully. 

“Who?” 

“Opal, but they’re being backed by Moonstone, and it’s thought that other kingdoms will join very soon.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me, Opal is always up for a fight and Moonstone wants the dark blue. So, we’re definitely in for a war then?”

Harry looks at Louis, stunned. 

“How are you so calm about this?” 

Louis shrugged his shoulders, moved closer to Harry and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. 

“Guess I was just waiting for it. Let’s just enjoy the wedding, yeah?” 

Hardy nodded sadly, wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist and snuggling into his chest. Louis wasn’t calm, his heart was beating so fast that he feared a heart attack was imminent. His head was screaming, but he stayed calm for Harry. Always for Harry. But Harry could hear his heartbeat, and he hated Louis for lying to him. 

The next morning, Harry was sleeping soundly next to Louis, the sunlight mixing with his features. Louis had been up for a while, because, while he didn’t want to show it, he was terrified of war. And he hadn’t expected it. But Harry doesn’t need to know that. His curls splayed across the silk pillow, and his lashes that fell effortlessly onto his cheekbones made everything worth it to Louis. It’s not often he wakes up before Harry, but when he does, he just lays on his side admiring his beauty. Louis always thinks of how lucky he is to have found Harry and for Harry to be his. In this moment he doesn’t care about the prophecy, all he cares about is the sleeping boy next to him. 

“Stop staring, it’s creepy.” 

Harry mutters and Louis rolls his eyes. He pokes his cheek where the dimple should be, making Harry beam and giggle. 

“Hey, Haz?” 

Harry rolls over to face Louis, 

“Yeah, Lou?” 

Louis shifts closer to Harry, so close that their lips are almost touching, he smiles softly and in a low tone whispers, 

“I love you.” 

*** 

Harry’s smile spread so far and so quickly across his face that Louis can’t help but beam back. 

“I love you, Lou.” 

Louis felt his heart jump and just realised what all of this was. It was real, and it made everything worth it. If Louis were to die tomorrow, he knew he’d be happy. He could die happy knowing Harry loved him. He could go to war, fight, knowing Harry loved him. He could deal with it, and face it.

Eleanor’s wedding started in a few hours but Louis had decided that he really wanted to be there for her, as she was for him. So both Harry and Louis decided to get ready quickly, both donning white silk suits and a golden rose at the lapel. All guests were asked to wear white, the brides were presumably going to be in colour. Eleanor had asked Diamond directly for use of their colour, which of course they accepted, sending congratulations along with it.

Louis went to check on Eleanor while Harry decided to see Ella. Harry had always been closer with her, while they didn’t speak they would often share a glance or two which spoke volumes. They were close in the fact that they didn’t need to speak. They knew each other.

A soft knock came at Eleanors door, she was finally ready after hours of prepping. Her gown was a daisy yellow with thousands of tiny diamonds all over it, glittering in the sunlight, her sleeves were too made of the diamonds and gradually stopped around her forearm. Her hair was half up, half down with ringlets falling around her face, a small tiara atop her head was a delicate gold. She took Louis’ breath away, and he couldn’t have been prouder of her for finding herself. 

“Lou.” 

She sighed happily at the sight of him and moved to cuddle him. 

“You look beautiful.” 

Eleanor blushed and looked down at her gown. 

“What do you think?” 

Louis furrowed his brows, confused at exactly what she was asking him. 

“I just said.. I think you’re beau-“ 

Eleanor cuts him off by shaking her head, 

“Not of me. Of this. This wedding, am I rushing into things?” 

Louis smiles softly, moving closer to her, 

“Well, why did you want to marry her in the first place?” 

Eleanor looks to the floor, her face is soft, ethereal, her cheeks are turning a slight pink at the thoughts of her wife-to-be, 

“Because she’s my person. My best friend, and when we kiss I ache for more, and when we’re apart I can’t quite function. Because my heart beats for her, and I don’t know what life is without her.” 

Louis doesn’t realise, but his eyes have filled with tears, and with every word, he couldn’t help but think of Harry. He swallows the lump in his throat, he can’t believe he’s only just told Harry he loved him. He feels like the biggest idiot. Harry deserves more than that. Far more. 

“Then no, I don’t think you could ever rush into it, not when you feel like that.” 

Louis isn’t sure if he’s talking to Eleanor or himself, his whole mind is rushing through these past months, with how he felt with Harry, how his heart broke when he left, how he would rather die than live without him. Maybe it’s time.

In Ella’s room, Harry has been bringing her out of her shell, a talent that surprised even him. They were sitting on a settee, made of a plush crushed velvet the colour of pale yellow. Her dress was a pastel pink, covered in tulle and small roses. Where Eleanors dress was elegant, Ella’s was sweet. Their dresses reflected their personalities perfectly. Her hair had been twisted into an updo, with a pale pink veil pinned to the top of her head, and a small flower crown. Harry was unbelievably excited for her, he could see how happy she was and prayed to one day look that happy. 

“You are breathtaking, El.” 

She looks to the floor and giggles, cheeks red. 

“You’re prettier.” 

She whispers, and Harry can’t help but laugh. 

Soon, a knock came at the door, and Harry was the one to meet a guard, 

“It’s time.” 

He said with a smile and Harry nodded, closing the door he looked behind him to the bride, 

“Ready?” 

Her face lit up, and Harry knew that no one in the world could be more ready. Except perhaps him. As Harry went to open the door, Ella grabbed his arm, causing him to stop. 

“Harry, before we go, I want to ask you something.” 

Harry nodded and smiled a reassuring smile. 

“Will you be my maid of honour? I don’t know anyone here and-“ 

Harry cut her off by pulling her into a tight cuddle, 

“I’d be honoured.” 

“Was that a pun?” 

Ella rolled her eyes, already used to Harry and his ways. He giggled into her shoulder, 

“Maybe.” 

The wedding was to be held in the ballroom, a grand room with flood to ceiling windows - now covered in golden ivy and pink roses - and three giant chandeliers, dripping with yellow diamonds. The aisle is made of yellow and pink rose petals, with plush chairs on either side. There had to be at least 100 people in attendance. Louis sat at the front on the left side of the aisle, Eleanor had asked him to sit where the father of the bride would normally sit - she wanted someone important to her to take his place. Sat next to him - where the mother of the bride would have sat - is her elder brother. They exchange pleasantries, but Louis can’t help but let his eyes wander to the door, waiting for Harry. He wasn’t worried, at least that’s what he told himself. But where was he? It’d be starting anytime now.

Soon, the doors open and the bridesmaids all enter, Harry leading them with a girl on his arm, a girl who Louis recognised as Eleanors’ maid of honour. Louis felt a twinge if jealousy rush through him, taking him by surprise. He knew Harry was his, but seeing a beautiful girl dragging on his arm made Louis think horrible things. But then Harry met his eyes and it immediately calmed him, the green eyed boy smirked at him, sent a wink his way and Louis playfully shook his head, a smile on his lips. 

Once all of the bridesmaids were stood at the sides of the alter, Harry at the front on the right, almost perfectly in Louis’ eye line, the doors opened once again and both brides walked in together, in a mix of gasps and happy whispers. The smiles on their faces said a thousand words, and all Louis could do was to search for Harry’s eyes, and when he found them, they were staring straight back. And Louis knew he was ready for his future to start. 


	20. Chapter 20

A few hours later and the sun was setting, and everyone - including the many normal people of Heliodor - were dancing in the gardens of Eleanors’ palace. There was fairy lights dangling from every possible surface, from the trees, the walls, even the flowers had fairy lights. There was a sea of white, with every guest wearing the bright colour, and every now and then a spot of yellow and pink could be seen. Harry and Louis seemed to be attached at the hip, never leaving each other’s sides. A slow song starts to play and Louis leads Harry onto the dance floor, who happily (and somewhat tipsily) throws his arms around Louis’ neck. Harry places a quick peck onto Louis’ lips as they sway to the beat. 

“You know, Lou. This wedding has me thinking..” 

Harry starts, Louis closes his eyes, letting Harry’s voice lead him. He mumbles in response, trying to nudge Harry to continue his thought. 

“Thinking about our future. Do you want kids, Lou?” 

Louis had opened his eyes while Harry was talking, and had allowed a rather large smile to spread across his face, causing small wrinkles to appear next to his eyes, 

“Of course.” 

“Even as young as we are?” 

“Even as young as we are.” 

Harry giggled the night away, and Louis couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the thoughts of what their wedding might look like. Will it be blue and green? Just blue? Just green? Who would be his best man? Would Harry invite Zayn? 

Zayn. The white eyed boy filled Louis head and he began to wonder if he should reach out. Invite him to Sapphire. He decided that yes, he should. Zayn seemed to fully support Harry and him, there’s no reason why that should’ve changed, besides, Harry and him seemed close, he should have someone like that in Sapphire. Louis wanted Harry to have as many people he loved around him as possible. Louis knew of the war and what that means. Louis is not a coward, he will face this thing head on, even if it means losing his head. 

Harry stumbled over to where Louis was sitting, happily deep in thought. The alcohol seemed to have worked pretty rapidly, as he started to slur some of his words. He messily sat on Louis’ lap, waking him from his daydream, 

“Oh, hey, babe. Tired yet?” 

Louis asked, placing a kiss on Harry’s temple, causing a drunken giggle to erupt from him. 

“Let’s dance!” 

Harry quickly got up and yanked a _very_ tired Louis behind him, onto the dance floor yet again. Harry could sense Louis’ hesitation and laughed, 

“You old man! Tired already?!” 

Luckily for Louis, the song changed to a slow one, where Harry immediately flung his arms around Louis’ neck. 

“Hey Lou?” 

Louis mumbled in response, 

“If war breaks out, promise me you won’t go into battle?” 

Louis looked at Harry, his green-blue eyes big and childlike, the seriousness of the tone and the question itself made Louis cease to sway, and Harry slowly removed his arms from around his neck. 

“Haz,” 

Louis started carefully, walking on eggshells, 

“You know I can’t promise that.” 

Figures swayed around Harry and Louis, almost blurring into the background. Harry physically finches away from Louis’ words, taking a step away from Louis, 

“Harry, babe. You know what my role is. What kind of king would I be if I let my people die for me without at least risking my life too?” 

Louis stepped forward, arms outstretched towards Harry, who took another step back, shook his head and whispered a broken, 

“No.” 

Louis could see the tears in his eyes, but Louis couldn’t promise Harry this, he just couldn’t. He would promise Harry the world, but the world can’t promise Harry Louis. Harry knew this, he just had to try, who would he be if he didn’t at least try?

Harry looked at Louis, allowing a tear to make its way down his cheek, turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could towards the castle. As he reached the palace, his sobs wrecked his body and he had to start to walk, he walked blindly around until he eventually found their room, where he laid on the bed and cried the night away. And he wished he were more drunk, or more brave,so he could just forget everything. 

Outside, Louis approached Eleanor - a feat less difficult now that the party was easing - he pulled her into a quick cuddle, whispering congratulations to her, he was obviously worried about something. Eleanor could see how erratic he was, but decided that if he needed her help, he’d ask. 

Once the pleasantries were over with, Louis jogged back to the palace, in search of Harry. He knew exactly where Harry would be, you could say that he is simply drawn to him, or perhaps it was just how well he knew Harry and his need for comfort?

Louis made a beeline for their room, and while he climbed the stairs his mind wandered to thoughts of an impending war. How many people will die because of his father? There has been too much suffering already, and Sapphire can not afford a full blown war - especially with a kingdom as rich as Opal. 

Louis quietly opened the bedroom door, so as to not startle Harry, who was laying under a mountain of duvets and blankets, but Louis could still see the quiet sobs erupting from his baby. He carefully walked over to the bed, and lays down behind Harry, resting his head on the shaking shoulder. 

“Harry? Haz?” 

He whispered into Harry’s ear, the boy in front of him sniffled and turned to face Louis. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just so scared.” 

Louis smiled sadly and placed a soft kiss on Harry’s forehead. 

“I know, love. But please try to understand.” Harry nodded, and snuggled into Louis’ chest, “I do understand. I just wish I didn’t have to. I wish our lives were different. But then again, if our lives were different we’d never have met.” Louis stroked Harry’s curls, kissing his face all over. 

“I’d have found you anyway.” 

Harry sighed happily and allowed himself to be won over by the warmth of the situation, any negative thoughts were swept away with every kiss from Louis. 

“I love you, Lou.” 

“And I love you, my baby.”

***

The next morning Harry and Louis packed up their clothes ready to go home. But their bedroom door opens quickly, and in rushes Eleanor and her new wife. She shuts their door quickly but quietly, as to not alarm any guards or guests. 

“El? What’s wrong?” 

Harry is the one to speak, Louis has a terrible feeling that he knows exactly what’s wrong. 

“It’s Opal. They’ve declared war. And they’re backed by at least three other kingdoms.” 

She’s talking quickly, eyes wide. Ella is visibly shaking, holding in tears, Harry moves towards her carefully bringing her into a cuddle, she rests her head on his chest, sobbing, 

“W-What kingdoms?” 

Louis tried to be strong, but his voice betrayed him, causing him to stutter. 

“Onyx, Ruby and Moonstone. They’re already on their way.” 

Louis breathed deeply, 

“And Emerald?” 

Harry was the one to ask the question that everyone wanted to hear the answer to. Eleanor smiled at him sadly, 

“No, they’ve released a statement saying that they will back Sapphire. As will Heliodor.” Eleanor nods at Louis, whose eyes become as thankful as he feels, he moves to hug Eleanor and whispers a “Thank you” in her ear. 

Harry and Louis rapidly resumed packing, with the wives helping them, they wanted to get back in Sapphire as soon as possible in order to calm the people, and to start some kind of plan. They’re rushing around their elegant room, throwing clothes and anything else they brought into varying bags and suitcases. Once they were all packed up, they both hugged each of the girls, thanked them and congratulated them. 

“Stay safe, yeah?” 

Eleanor said to Louis as they pulled away from the hug, but Louis simply sighed and his eyes fell the stare at the floor. Everyone knew what this meant; Ella looked at Harry, Harry was barely holding it together while staring at Louis, and Eleanor let her tears fall before she wrapped her arms tightly around Louis again. Everyone stood in silence for a few moments, urging this place into their long term memory. This would be their last moment of peace. They’re last moment of freedom, of happiness. This was it. War has begun. And war doesn’t care who you are or what you mean to people, war is ruthless and it will destroy you in more ways than one. It’s already started. And for one, war is all they will remember.

The car ride home was silent. Neither spoke to the other, both looking out of their respective windows. The only way they knew the other was in the car was their hands on top of one another and the matched breathing. If they were to talk, what would they say? There was nothing Louis could say that would make Harry calm down and relax, and there was nothing Harry could say that would stop this war. But they still needed each other, every once in a while Harry would move his thumb over Louis’ knuckles and a small smile would form on both of their lips. 

The closer they got to Sapphire, the less people they saw. The people of Heliodor were frightened, hiding in their homes. 

The border between Heliodor and Sapphire had been taken down, meaning that from Heliodor you could see the blue trees and dirt roads of Sapphire. Louis had only been a child when the Colour War ceased, he barely remembered that the boarders would be taken down between allied Kingdoms. But he remembers the war. He remembers his father being away for months at a time, his mother trying her best to stay calm (and failing spectacularly). He remembers almost hoping for his father to stay on the battlefield. He remembers the children of Sapphire and their screams in the night. He remembers distant cries and gun shots. Louis felt like a child again. A child who needed his mother now more than ever. A child who had to protect everything and everyone he cared about while putting his life on the line. A child who had to go to war.

In Sapphire, the people watched their car in such obvious fear that the minute Louis reached his castle, he went to write a letter to the King of Opal, begging for a ceasefire before anything serious happened. What he hadn’t noticed was the sea of officials from Kingdoms such as Heliodor, Emerald, Diamond, and Morganite. 

Harry, however, noticed the array of different eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. He entered the throne room to see his sister, along with the rulers of the other kingdoms that have decided to support Louis. Harry noticed a familiar pair of rose eyes at the back of the room and moved to talk to him. 

“Niall?” 

The blonde boy beamed at Harry and pulled him into a tight hug, 

“Why are you up here?” 

“Bit slow, aren’t we?” 

He replied playfully, Harry still had his brows furrowed in confusion. A group of people surrounded them; white eyes, gold, pink, and green. 

“I needed a break..” 

Niall was determined to get Harry to guess correctly. 

“You’re not?” 

Harry’s eyes were wide with bewilderment, Niall nodded, chuckling. 

“Considering no one knows who the rulers of Morganite are, it was very easy for me to slip out. I just wanted to see how other kingdoms were doing. Wanted to meet new people.” 

Niall shrugged his shoulders while Harry was still somewhat lost. 

“But your dad?” 

Niall rolled his eyes and smirked, 

“I didn’t lie. He did die. But I was king long before that, he’d been ill for a while. It was all expected, so when he died, he wasn’t in pain anymore.”

Soon, Louis entered and the minute he saw the crowd of support, he fell to his knees and sobbed into the palms of his hands. Harry gasped and ran over to him, skidding on his knees as he came close. Without thinking he wrapped his arms around Louis and rocked him slowly. Louis kept repeating the words ‘thank you’ over and over, and all Harry could do was kiss his head and hold him until his tears stopped.


	21. Chapter 21

Louis spends the last few days he has until an army arrives at his door attending meetings and talks. He met with every ruler from a kingdom that had decided to support him. He met with every volunteer and their family. Harry went with him, however Louis had to beg. Harry knew why Louis wanted him there. He wanted him there in case Harry had to take the throne, so at least he knew everything, and everyone knew him. Harry didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to be prepped on being king. He never wanted the throne, especially when it was Louis’. But he went, for Louis. Only ever for Louis.

Sapphire and supporting kingdoms were dubbed the defenders, while Opal and their allies were the attackers. Louis joked that they weren’t very imaginative names for a war, but Harry couldn’t even crack a smile. 

It was a Thursday when the attacker army reached the border. They had made their way to the Sunstone kingdom - of which the south had been evacuated in preparation for a war, the Sunstone kingdom had not sided and neither Louis nor Opal were going to ask them to do so, they had always been a peaceful kingdom, there was no need to bring them into it, even if everyone knew that they secretly sided with Sapphire. It was a sunny Thursday, a warm evening when the news came. They had rejected Louis’ request for a talk and ceasefire and were to wait for the defender army to meet them at the border for a maximum of two days before they invaded. Louis feared this was going to happen. No one ever wants peace, that’s the easy way. No, they want blood, and they don’t care who’s it is.

Louis got word out to the army within the hour, and by midnight was himself dressed for battle. He could barely dress himself as his hands shook violently. Harry helped, he had to. If he was to watch Louis go to war, he would spend every second up to that point with him and making sure he will come back alive. Harry had been forbidden to go to war, by Louis, and by his sister - who herself was going with Louis at midnight, and had promised Harry to bring him home. 

It was a few minutes past midnight when Harry put both arms around Louis and decided to ask him to stay one last time, “Please?” 

Louis sighed and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry, kissing his hair. 

“You know I have to go.” 

Harry shook his head into Louis’ chest, tears falling. 

“But why now? Wait until morning.” 

Louis so wanted to give in, to stay safe with Harry, but that was not his duty. His duty was to and with his people, and unfortunately, Harry knew this. 

“I’ll be back before you know it, and until then, I will be here.” 

Louis placed his hand on Harry’s chest, his heart beating behind the skin. They the. stood in each other’s arms for a while, and Louis almost missed the days where he didn’t have to care. He started to regret all the time he missed with Harry, he should have held onto him longer. And he’s making that same mistake now. 

“Hey, Harry?” 

Harry looked up at him, his eyes are gradually becoming more blue than green, and every time Louis looks in the mirror, he swears that his eyes are turning green too. 

“I love you. Don’t forget that.” 

Harry smiles sadly, and kisses Louis in his cheek, lips lingering on his skin. 

“I’ll always love you, Lou.” 

Louis meets Elizabeth out the front of the castle, she smiles and Louis finally sees the resemblance between the siblings. Louis didn’t ask Harry to look after his sisters, he didn’t need to. He knew that Harry was going to look after everything while he was gone, that’s who Harry is. Lizzie is aware of what this means, of the danger everyone is putting themselves in. She looks from Harry to Louis, and promises herself that she will die for Louis, if it were to come to that. Her life is nothing compare to Louis’. 

Louis heart aches with every step he takes away from Harry. But by the time they’ve reached the border, he decides to put Harry from his mind. He needs to focus on the task at hand. Thinking of Harry will just put him in danger. All he needs to do is fight and win. And then he can start the rest of his life with Harry. 

It’s dawn by the time they’ve met with the attacker army, the defender army is close behind, Louis gives one final look at Lizzie, before crossing the border, who nods.

Louis doesn’t even have any time to think, because before he knew it, he was across the border and a knife was plunged into his side, the King of Opal had been waiting for Louis, dagger in hand. Louis watched the man as he fell to the wet grass, the sun rising over the horizon. 

***

Three months had passed since Harry had last seen Louis. No one had sent word, so no one knew how it was going, or if Louis was even alive. Harry was driving himself insane, why hadn’t he heard? What’s happening? Is Louis safe? He barely slept nowadays. He spent his days cuddling Louis’ sisters, just trying to comfort them. Georgia forgave him very quickly, they all were now so close. War does that to people. They could hear gun fire in the distance, yells, cries. Everything. They could hear it even when they slept. 

Liam walks up to Harry one evening and asks to see him alone, to which Harry accepts. Liam is very serious, it unnerves Harry. They get to Liam’s room, and he shuts the door so quietly that Harry doesn’t even realise he’s been shut in. 

“I’ve got to tell you something.” 

Harry rolls his eyes and goes to reach for the door, 

“Not now, Li.” 

Liam blocks the door, quite aggressively, and Harry takes a step back. 

“You need to listen to me. It’s important. It’s about the prophecy.” 

Harry rolls his eyes again and scoffs. 

“I don’t give two fucks about some prophecy. The love of my life is at war!” 

He’s very animated in his movements, flinging his arms around, there’s a tightening in his chest and a lump in his throat that he can’t quite push down. 

“Harry.” 

The seriousness in his voice echoes that of his mother, that of his Kingdom. It stops Harry in his tracks, it makes him feel like a child, and that makes his blood boil. 

“The prophecy can only be fulfilled if one of you die. And one of you will die.” 

This made Harry’s blood freeze, his mind went blank and there was a high pitched ringing in his ears. Liam noticed his knees beginning to buckle and quickly moved a chair behind him just as he fell. 

“It’s the only thing Merlin didn’t know. Who was going to die. But one of you will before the country can be united.” 

Harry couldn’t hear a word he was saying, it was like he was underwater. 

“Shut up.” 

It was barely a whisper, his voice was hoarse. But Liam stopped talking, and just stood behind Harry, waiting for anything. But instead Harry pushed himself out of the chair and silently left Liam’s rooms. 

He walked the castle, hand tracing the wall, eyes unfocused, mind dizzy. All he could think of Louis. Is he alive? Will he stay alive? What if he’s already dead? How will Harry live without him? How will anyone live without him? Louis was the morning sun and the crisp evening air. He heard screams as people in the castle got the news that someone they loved is dead. Gone. That’s it. At least they get a letter, Harry thinks. Who is Harry, in reality? A boyfriend? Boyfriends don’t get the news. The family does. 

Louis was the laughter in Harry and the smile in Eleanor. He kept everyone sane and kept them close. Without him, everything will break, most of all Harry. His heart has shattered at the thought of living when Louis dies. He can’t do it. He won’t.

It’s 3 am and Harry can’t sleep. One side of his bed is cold where it should be warm. Empty where Louis should be. The moonlight is cold on Harry’s cheek, and the blue looks sinister. Harry wants to run to the border and drag Louis home. He even ripped the sheets off of his body and went to put shoes on before he had to slap himself out of the daydream. Because what if Louis isn’t there? Then what? What if he’s already dead and buried? 

In bed, he felt sleep dragging on his eyelids, but he heard a group of footsteps running towards his door, with a multitude of urgent whispers. Closer and closer they came until a loud knock came at his door, and he was immediately on his feet. Outside his door was his mother, father, Niall, Eleanor and Zayn.

“You need to come with us.” 

His mother whispered, her voice was scared and it made him move without a thought. “What is it?” 

“It’s Louis.” 

And his footsteps quickened.

They reached Liam’s chamber, and they all stepped back, allowing Harry to go in alone. 

“Wait, he’s here?” 

His voice trembled and tears pricked his eyes. They all nodded, and he hesitantly opened the door, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

Inside, Liam was running around like a headless chicken, Elizabeth was helping him - well trying to, he was very erratic. Laying on the wooden table was a semi conscious Louis, who kept groaning and whimpered every time Liam touched him. 

“Lou?” 

Harry was crying, the name was choked out, and Liam and Elizabeth stopped in their tracks to turn to him. Their faces shocked. 

“Harry.” 

Louis barely mumbled the name but they all knew that he could sense Harry’s presence. Harry moved to sit beside Louis, grabbing his hand as he did so as some kind of reflex. 

“What happened to him?” 

Harry was trying so hard not to sob, he needed to be strong for Louis, but it was so hard. So hard. Louis lightly squeezed Harry’s hand, and that was enough for Harry to lay his head on the table next to Louis and cry his eyes out like he needed to. 

Once Harry’s tears had dried, Elizabeth approached Harry slowly, placing a careful hand on his shoulder and sitting down next to him. 

“He was stabbed our first day there. But that didn’t stop him-“ 

Harry scoffed and smiled proudly down at Louis, 

“Of course it didn’t.”

Elizabeth smiles sadly at her baby brother, 

“And then this morning he was stabbed in the abdomen. He was protecting me. But he’s got an infection in the first wound. Harry,”

She sits down next to her brother, he words are burned at the edges, she doesn’t know how to say this, but Harry knows exactly what she’s about to say.

“He’s dying.” 

Harry nods, he’s numb, but he’s proud. Of course Louis would protect Lizzy, he knew he was dying. He knew that Harry couldn’t lose Lizzy too. 

“How long? How long does he- we have?” 

Elizabeth swallowed hard, sighing gently.

“A month, tops.”

But in reality, he had much less time.


	22. Chapter 22

Louis woke up in a strange room with a curly head fast asleep next to him, hand held tightly onto his. Louis smiled softly at the boy and felt his heart fill with love, and then it broke, with a realisation of what happened and how much longer he has. 

“Hey.” 

A croaky voice slapped Louis out of his thoughts, 

“Hey babe.” 

Harry leaned over carefully and placed a sweet kiss onto Louis’ lips, the room lit up in colour, and both pulled away sadly, knowing that they won’t see all those colours for much longer. Liam then walked in, 

“Ah good, you’re up. I think you should go and get some rest somewhere comfortable.” 

Louis nodded so Harry and Liam both slipped an arm under Louis arms and helped him walk back to their room. They helped him into bed, and Liam left without a word. Harry snuggled into bed next to Louis, careful not to make the bed move to much. His worst fear is to hurt Louis. 

“Louis, what happened?” 

Harry was serious and childlike all at once, big - almost blue - eyes looking up at him. Louis smiled and softly wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. 

“It’s over Haz. We won.” 

Harry furrowed his brows and stained to look at Louis in his eyes, eyes that had an edge of green to them. 

“But nothings been announced?” 

Louis nodded and placed a kiss on Harry’s forehead, 

“After I was stabbed, our army overpowered them and they surrendered. There was a talk just before they brought me back that said we would allow them to pack up and go home before any announcement was made. I’m to make the announcement tomorrow.” 

Harry sighed contently and allowed the warmth of his home to rush over him and send him off to sleep. 

They slept the day away, Louis’ body was trying to heal and Harry’s was finally catching up on all those hours he lost thinking of Louis.They woke up in the early hours of the morning, moonlight streamed through the windows, and Harry noticed that Louis wasn’t in the bed anymore. A silhouette stood on the balcony, looking up at the stars, and Harry’s legs moved before he had a chance to understand what was happening. Outside the air was crisp and cool, the stars were competing with the moon. 

“I just want to enjoy all of the time I have left. I never fully appreciated the night.” 

Louis started to talk before Harry could let him know he was there. 

“I understand Lou.” 

They stood together under the moonlight for a few minutes, enjoying the silence of the night. Harry’s heart beat quicker with every passing minute. 

“Lou, do you remember what I said to you when we first got together all those months ago?” 

Louis furrowed his brows and blinked slowly,

“To be fair Haz, a lot was said and it’s been a fair few months since we first got together.” 

Harry giggled and bowed his head, Louis could sense a nervous energy around Harry and moved to look at him in the eyes, placing a hand on Harry’s arm. 

“Haz, are you oka-“ 

“I said I was going to marry you one day.” 

Harry is talking quickly, tripping over his words, Louis’ eyes fill with tears and he starts to laugh. It’s happening. Their love makes the moon smile down on them, and they both finally feel whole. They are here, right now, and they are together. A love like theirs only comes once in a century. And they know it. Not everyone gets to feel like this.

When Louis’ eyes clear, a glinting ring catches them. Between Harry’s fingers is a silver band with five gems in it, four of which are blue, one of which is green. 

“Oh for fucks sake, Harry.” 

Louis laughs and reaches into his back pocket to reveal a ring exactly the same, except with four green gems and one blue. 

“I wanted to ask first.” 

Harry giggles, heart still beating, but now he’s giddy. 

“Well, go on then.” 

Louis laughs, and his smile is so big that he’s scared he’ll never be this happy again. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Louis whispered, Harry nodded his head, and presented his hand to Louis, who slides the ring onto his finger.

“Simple, but effective.” 

Louis raised his eyebrows, waiting for Harry to talk. Harry cleared his throat and sighed deeply. 

“Louis, I wrote you a song.” 

Harry suddenly got very awkward, he had thought about how he would ask Louis to marry him, but now that the moments here, he’s lost for words. He wrote this song while he was in Emerald, the time Louis sent him away. Harry quickly went back inside and emerged with a deep green acoustic guitar, he sat down on a metal chair and started to strum, humming as he went. Louis quietly sat down across from him and watched his fiancé get lost in the music, the music that was just for him. Harry took a deep breath and started to sing the lyrics he wrote for Louis, 

“If I could fly, I’d be coming right back home to you...” 

By the end of the song, Louis was sniffling and smiling. He was sad and happy all at once. Harry moved towards Louis, placing the guitar on the ground gently, 

“Be mine, forever?” 

Harry asked, his voice was quiet and soft in the silence of the night, and all Louis could do was nod and tackle Harry into a hug. And so Louis and Harry finally had proof that they were tied to one another. Forever. But forever isn’t as long as you think.

***

Harry and Louis watched the sunrise together, before they went around getting ready for the day ahead. Both were still recovering from the excitement of the night before. 

Harry watched Louis walk around their room, going over his speech for the afternoon announcement. Harry was sitting on their bed, eyes following Louis’ every movement around the room. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, to be able to watch his now fiancé. To be able to just sit and admire what he was like, he took it all in. He breathed Louis. He wished to stay like that forever. In Louis’ presence. The ache in his heart told him that he didn’t have much time left with Louis. He begged the universe to give him just a little bit more time. And the universe listened. 

_Just a little bit more time,_ it agreed. 

At the announcement, it was a great cause for celebration. Harry knew that Louis was celebrating something different from everyone else. They had agreed to announce the engagement in a weeks time, so that those who fought could be celebrated and remembered. It’s the very least they could do, give people time to grieve and celebrate. It also gave them time to plan. Because, god, are they going to need to. 

They spent the day going to every possible house to celebrate, thank those for their sacrifices, and to gift them what they can - anything to repay the people and apologise. Louis had taken all the blame on his shoulders, he genuinely apologised for the acts of his father, truly believing that it’s all his fault. And while it breaks Harry to see Louis taking it all on, he’s also in awe of the man. The man that has such strong morals that he blames himself for others mistakes. Harry can’t quite comprehend Louis, how he can be real. The man is heaven on Earth, Harry’s angel.

Louis can’t celebrate, he doesn’t see it as a reason to be happy. He sees it as a funeral. He doesn’t see people coming home to their families, he sees the boys on the battlefield who died for a dead man’s decision. He sees a river running red and feels the dagger in his side. He doesn’t see the confetti, he sees bullets. He doesn’t hear cheers, he hears screams.

They go to bed early that night, laying in the sound of fireworks and cheering. The sounds make Louis wince, but Harry just holds him, giving his ears something so focus on, whispering sweet nothings. But they’re falling asleep to the sound of freedom. Louis has his first nightmare that night. He wakes screaming in floods of tears. The moonlight is barely a sliver in the sky, and Harry’s heart has never beat so quick. He holds Louis until the sunrise, he doesn’t stop shaking. The images are repeating in his mind. 

“Talk.” 

Louis whispers shakily in the morning rays of sunlight. 

“About what?” 

Harry’s head is resting on top of Louis’, his arms holding Louis’ shivering body. 

“Anything. Please.” 

It’s pleading, he needs new images to replace the old. Harry sighs and says the first words that come to his mind. He’s just doing what Louis asked, he thinks he’s doing him a kindness. But, instead, it breaks Louis. 

“Do you think the kids are asleep?” 

Louis’ heart skips a beat, but he plays along. He know he won’t live to have children, but there’s no harm in pretending. 

“I bet Luke’s still awake.” 

Harry giggles and cuddles Louis closer, 

“I bet the girls are too.” 

“I can practically hear Harriet.” 

Louis is smiling, eyes closed. He’s imagining what their future would have looked like. Should have looked like. 

“You don’t think we should’ve adopted another boy?” 

Harry shrugs, and nibbles at Louis’ ear, 

“There’s nothing stopping us from adopting now.” 

Louis scoffs and looks at Harry, 

“You don’t think five kids is enough?” 

They both snuggle down into the bed, sleep almost overwhelming them. 

“I don’t think there’s enough kids in the world. Besides Marta is old enough to not need us anymore.” 

Louis falls asleep smiling, and in his dreams he hears the pitter patter of little feet approaching their door and five children jump on their bed, laughing. 

“I’ll always need you, Papa.” 

Those words settle his heart and soul, giving him the strength to accept his death. He knows his daughter; in that moment, his daughter holds his hand and kisses him on the cheek. 


	23. Chapter 23

The week leading up to the engagement announcement was a mess to say the least. Harry was running around trying too hard not to become a bridezilla while Louis tried so hard not to open up his stitches from laughing. You would often find Harry almost in tears begging for a vegan cake so that everyone could have a slice and not far away you would find a Louis doubled over in a corner, crying with laughter as the bakers got gradually more and more frustrated. Liam would often come over to Louis and plead for him to help Harry but Louis seemed to be enjoying the stressful groom far too much. 

A month before the engagement announcement, Harry had his family and Niall meet him in the gardens, while Louis was having the same conversation with his sisters and Liam in the throne room. 

“What’s this about, H?” 

Harry breathes, nerves taking over. 

“Louis and I are getting married!” 

He blurts the words, and Lizzy is the first to react, screaming and running to him, hugging him tightly. Niall hugged him, clapping him on the back, smiling brightly. His parents both hugged him, but were all too aware of the impending death. 

Louis had a very similar scene in the throne room, except all his sisters cried at the news, aware of what this meant. 

It was a bright and warm Friday evening when Louis invited as many people as possible into the throne room - including, Royals, servants and the people of Sapphire. Louis stood at the front of the room, Harry on his right, hand in his. 

“I’ve gathered you all here today to announce that Harry and I are engaged and will be getting married tomorrow.” 

The crowd gasps and then erupts into a sea of applause. Those close to the boys were already aware, but that didn’t stop them from beaming and yelling their congratulations. Harry heard a familiar voice in the crowd, a voice louder than the rest. A voice prouder than the rest. The eyes shone brighter than the rest. Harry raced down the steps and pushed through the crowd before throwing his arms around his old friend. 

“Hi, H.” 

The voice breathed, relieved. 

“Zayn.” 

Harry sighed and squeezed him. Harry felt a hand on the small of his back and he let go of Zayn, who took one look at Louis and immediately went to bow, but before he could Louis took him by the shoulders and pulled him into a quick cuddle. 

“Welcome back.” 

Zayn smiled and moved his gaze back to Harry,

“Am I still on for best man?” 

Harry nodded vigorously, and beamed at his best friend, 

“I’d have no one else.” 

That night, Harry went to pack his pyjamas and toothbrush in order to move to another room. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Louis is sitting on their bed, book in hand. “You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” 

Louis raised his eyebrows at his fiancé, and had to hold his laughter in when he saw that Harry was, in fact, serious. Louis tapped the bed beside him and Harry sat next to him. 

“Do you know where that superstition came from?” 

Harry shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. 

“It came from arranged marriages, it was to stop the groom from running away in case he didn’t like his wife-to-be. Do you really think that applies to us? Not to mention, you’re a groom.” 

Louis places his hand on top of Harry’s, and leaned over to place a kiss on Harry’s lips. Harry shook his head and smiled. 

“You’re stuck with me, unfortunately.” 

Harry beamed and kissed Louis, but couldn’t keep his mind from thinking of how little time he has to be stuck with Louis. The room slowly changed from blue, to colour, and back to blue. It was like a kind of sunset. Their own personal sunset. 

The next morning and they woke up in each other’s arms. Harry woke up first, as he normally does now, he’s so scared that Louis might slip away in the night. He admired Louis for a few minutes before waking him with a kiss. As Louis eyes flickered open, Harry whispered, 

“We’re getting married today.” 

Louis lips formed the biggest smile Harry had ever seen and he felt a small pang in his heart where he knew he may never see that smile again. But he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and reminded himself that today was their day, and nothing can ruin it. Harry showered and shaved, and styled his hair. Hanging on his wardrobe door was a suit in a zipped bag, keeping it clean and fresh. Inside the bag was a luxurious silk suit in the richest blue you could imagine, a small green dandelion on the lapel. 

In Louis’ bag, his suit was a deep emerald 

green suit that was covered in sparkles from head to toe. In his lapel sat a royal blue rose. The colours almost clashed, but were instead walking the line of perfectly matched, the suits were a mirror to the boys themselves, if they changed a shade or two, they would clash, but otherwise, couldn’t fit better together. 

When dressed, they look at each other, and while both expected the other to burst into tears, neither did. They smiled. Their heartbeats synchronised, and in that moment they realised, there would never be another person for either of them. This was it. Forever and always.

They made their way to the gardens together, hand in hand. Their best men - Zayn and Eleanor - were already outside, along with their groomsmen - Niall and Liam. Elizabeth was officiating. They stood inside, just behind double oak doors, they both breathed heavily, neither knew if they were nervous or excited. Either way, there were strong emotions pulsating through them. They wanted everyone to dress in whatever colour they wanted. They wanted the wedding to be a mixture of every colour possible. Eleanor is dressed in a floor length pink gown, covered in sequins. Nialls suit was too, pink. A blush pink with a white rose in the lapel. Zayn chose a white suit that reflected light the same way a crystal would. Liam chose a mint green suit, it wasn’t flashy but it worked. Elizabeth was dressed in a tulle gown, the colour of the sky just as the sun dips behind the horizon, a beautiful light orange. There was a sea of colour throughout their guests. 

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, 

“We start together.” 

Harry smiled and sighed, 

“Ready?” 

And the doors opened to two crowds of people on either side of the an aisle made of autumn leaves, it was cold out but neither of them could feel it. They had decided on an outdoor wedding, where their love will always be free and internal, with the trees as their guests. Guests who would never forget. 

They walked down the aisle, the song Harry wrote for Louis played softly in the background, as Harry had secretly recorded it, just for this moment. It was his wedding gift. They reached the alter where Lizzie stood, her dress fanning out on the floor. 

“Dearly beloved, we are all gathered here today to celebrate the love of Harry Edward Styles and Louis William Tomlinson. The grooms have each written their own vows, but is there anyone here today who believes the union between these two men should not happen? Please, speak now, or forever hold your peace.” 

There were practically crickets in response to here question and both Harry and Louis giggled softly, somewhat relieved. Lizzie turned to Harry, a smile covering her face, she was almost giddy. 

“Harry, would you like to start your vows?” 

Harry nodded softly, and took Louis’ hands in his. He was shaking and started to stumble over his words. 

“L-Louis,” 

Harry took a deep breath and stared at the floor, he didn’t know why he was so nervous. Maybe it’s because he’d just never been in love before? Or was it because Louis was staring at him as if he made the earth turn? 

“Louis, when we met, I knew there was something different about you. And I knew that I was the only one who could see it. I remember wanting to know every little detail about you, what made you tick, what made you smile. It’s not often I get to just watch you, but when I do it’s like watching artwork move. I remember when you told me about your mum, and how special I felt when you shared her with me. I want you to know, I asked for her blessing,” 

Louis breath hitched and he looked to the sky, and Harry swore he could see him mouth a ‘thank you’. 

“You made me feel things that I’ve never felt before, I’ve had the highest highs and the lowest lows with you in my life. You’re not just my soulmate, your soul and mine are the same. You made me laugh even when you weren’t there, and cry just at the thought of you. For every question why, you were my because, and I was no one without you, but I will be everyone because I’ve known you. Because I haven’t just known you, I’ve had the privilege of loving you. And I will love you until my dying breath, that I can promise you.”

Louis breathed shakily, he had promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but Harry is standing in front of him saying words that seem to break and heal his heart all at once. 

“Aw, yours is nicer than mine,” 

Louis joked as the crowd giggled, and his soon to be husband rolled his eyes, 

“Harry, my Haz, I can feel you take control of who I am and all I’ve ever known. I remember when you first came to me, there was something there as soon as I laid eyes on you. Something that pulled me to you. You are the one person that makes me want to be a better person. You have changed my world in so many ways. You’ve made me more open to, well, everything. But you’ve made me more open to love. I wish we had more time together, but my clocks running out. But, I know, and I hope you know too that my love for you will last forever, you are my one and my only. You have always been my only.” 

Louis looks to the sky again, and blinks away his tears as Harry squeezes his hands. Lizzie clears her throat and wipes a stray tear from her cheek. 

“I proudly pronounce you, husband and husband. You may kiss.” 

Louis and Harry, exchange simple gold bands, Louis has a single emerald engrained in his, and Harry’s has a sapphire. They kiss deeply in front of all their friends and family and everyone erupts into cheers. Their world changes colour but they don’t notice, the only colours that matter are the ones that are here, in this moment. Their love will forever be imprinted upon the trees, grass, mud and leaves. Harry and Louis look across the crowd and see many a red eye and stained cheek. They jog back down the aisle as confetti is poured over them. The universe smiles upon them, and then sighs for it could not give Louis as much time as Harry wanted. All it could give was today.

***

Their wedding day was simultaneously the best and worst day of Harry’s life. He had married the love of his life. It was the beginning of their forever. But then it was their wedding reception, and Harry could see Louis’ face get gradually whiter and whiter throughout the evening. Louis didn’t say anything and Harry was too scared to ask. 

Zayn stood up once the dinner had been eaten, and tapped a knife against his glass gently, and the crowd silenced. 

“I first met Harry when we were seven, and my father had visited Emerald, and within moments of meeting him, we had fought, made-up, and spilled my fathers expensive aftershave on the rug of my guest room. And it was then that I knew, Harry is the best person and will always be the best person, and when he defended me to my father, well, that just cemented it. And look at us now, nearly twenty years later, I’m honoured to have been a part of your life. And Louis deserves you, and you him. Although, I’m not sure Louis knows exactly what he’s signed up for. I wish you both the happiest time.” 

Once Zayn hugs Harry and Louis, and sits back down, Eleanor gets to her feet, breathing deeply, champagne glass in hand. 

“Hi, so, erm, when Louis asked me to be his best man, I was speechless. This man is the most incredible person I have ever met, his emotions are felt by the gods themselves. And, really, I’m not good at speech making. But, I haven’t known either Harry or Louis long, but I’ve seen their love up close, and it is the most fascinating experience, your love is truly out of this world, and I wish to have a love that is even half as passionate as yours. I will raise my glass to you and your love. May it be experienced forevermore.” 

Everyone raises their glasses to the grooms, drinking the sparkling liquid in celebration of them. 

Once the speeches were over, it was time for Harry and Louis’ first dance, a slow dance that they had not practiced at all. 

Liam, Niall and Zayn all came together to the side of the dance floor, guitar in Niall arms. Harry looked to the pale Louis in confusion, 

“They’ve written us a song, you don’t mind?” 

Harry shook his head and placed his arms around Louis’ neck, tears threatening to fall. Under his touch he could feel Louis slipping away. His light fading. Niall started to strum the guitar softly and they started to sing, and Louis chuckled lightly, a glimmer of the old Louis falling through the cracks.

“What a boy-band!”

Harry giggles as the lyrics teach them how to dance. 

“I’ve got a heart, and I’ve got a soul. Believe me I, will use them both...” 

When the song ended, Harry could see just how little time Louis had left, his eyes were no where near as bright as they should be. Harry refused to let go of him, which was one of the best decisions of his life as Louis’ knees buckled underneath him, and Harry held him on the floor in his arms. 

“I’m dying, Harry.” 

Harry shook his head, salty tears dripping onto Louis’ cheeks. 

“No you’re not. You can’t leave me. Not now. I won’t let you. _It’s our wedding day_.” 

“And what a lovely wedding it’s been. But you need to let me go.” 

Harry refused to believe it, he wasn’t dying. He was just sick. He just needed medicine. They hadn’t had enough time. This can’t be it. What about their future? No, this isn’t it. How can this be it? 

As Liam and Niall picked Louis up from Harry’s grasp, to take him to somewhere more comfortable, Harry cursed the universe. _How dare you? I had asked for more time!_ But the universe replied, that _there would never be enough time in the world for you_. Harry was furious, and broken. Why would he be made whole just to be crushed? It’s like getting a pair of shoes and then burning one. Harry isn’t Harry without Louis. 

Harry didn’t move. Not when Liam came to get him. Not when Lizzie tried to drag him. Not when the last guest had left. Even even when it started to rain, he was still on his knees, begging for Louis to live. He was willing to be striked down then and there if it meant Louis could live. He yelled at the gods above as the rain splashed onto his face.

“FUCK YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?! _FUCK YOU!”_

His tears turned the rain water salty, and the sobs wrecked his body. His fingers turned numb as he watched the sun dip behind the horizon. 

He only came inside once he could no longer stand the cold. He was drenched, hair stuck to his forehead, suit ruined. He walked up the steps, shivering. He’d hoped the pain of the cold would stop the pain of Louis. But it didn’t. It just made it worse. 

Harry reaches their bedroom door, but he couldn’t bring himself to open it or even knock. He listened to the door, he could hear soft whispers, every voice but Louis.’ He took a deep breath and gathered as much strength as he could, softly opening their door. All faces turned to him, the room was covered in lit candles, with Louis sitting up in the bed, a mountain of pillows to support him. His face was white, his eyes almost black, the blue was gone. Louis was barely in there anymore, he was trying so hard to hold on, but death pulled at his edges, beckoning him away. 

“Hey.” 

He whispered to the shaking Harry. 

“Hi.” 

Harry’s voice wavered and he moved to get changed. The room was silent except for the crackling of the fire in the fireplace. 

Now that Harry was there, everyone quietly said their goodbyes to Louis and left the room. They knew it was the last time they’d see him, and Harry could hear the sobs outside the door. By this time, the kingdom had heard of what was happening, so even outside there was silence. Harry looked out the window to see every house lighting a single candle in their window, a sort of vigil. Harry got changed and carefully climbed upon the bed, laying next to Louis. He could hear laboured breathing coming from his husband, and a deep crack made its way through Harry’s heart. 

“Hey, remember you need to help Rebecca with her homework.” 

Louis furrowed his brows and closed his eyes tight, a tear rolling down his cheek. 

“Yeah, and don’t you forget to take Klaudia to her piano lesson tomorrow.” 

Harry laughed sadly, moving a hand to stroke Louis’ cheek. This is what could’ve been. What should’ve been. But instead it’s what never will be. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, for the final time. Harry was thankful for every minute he could spend with his husband, he fell asleep on Louis chest, tears soaking his pyjama top. Even the stars refused to come out that night, and the moon cried. 

It was the sunrise when Harry awoke to heavy breathing coming from the room. Loud enough to wake him. Louis laid in the sunlight, chest rising and falling quickly. His skin had an almost green tinge, and his forehead was clammy, hair stuck to it. Harry cursed the universe one last time. _You had to go in pain, didn’t you? He couldn’t go peacefully?_ He sighed and felt a tear make its way down his face, so finally when he couldn’t bare it any longer, Harry leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Louis’ forehead. 

“Hey, baby, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you, you’re so brilliant, so loved. So, so loved, Louis, you need to know that. And it’s okay if you go, you don’t need to be in this pain anymore, go on. It’s okay, I love you.” 

His words were whispered, a promise to Louis. A promise to let him go, a promise to love him. Louis smiled in his dreams, thanked Harry silently and let a final breath escape. And his chest didn’t rise again. His lungs didn’t fill. His heart stopped and the room was silent.

Harry breathed out a hard breath and let his head fall atop of Louis’ chest. And he screamed. He sobbed. He punched the pillows. He begged for him to come back. It was Lizzie who was the first to arrive, woken by Harry’s screams. She fought to hold him, but hold him she did. He didn’t stop crying. But no one touched him, no one stopped him. He cried for days. He barely moved, barely talked. He was empty. 

Louis was buried in the gardens of the castle. It was a simple ceremony, and everyone dressed in blues and greens, that’s what Louis would’ve wanted. The kingdom came and mourned their king, and Harry would watch them as they placed flowers at his gravestone, almost jealous of them. This didn’t know Louis, not really. They could move on, he couldn’t. Harry refused to go down there, he couldn’t bare it, Louis shouldn’t be in the ground, it was all wrong. Life was wrong, now. 

After a few months, Harry went to talk to him. It was just a few words,

“I love you, and I miss you everyday. How am I supposed to do this without you? 

And then he’d talk to him every day. Even if nothing happened, he still talked. 

And then one day, on the anniversary of their wedding, Harry took his daughter to meet her father. 

“Louis, this is Marta. Look how beautiful she is.” 

And the little girl went and placed her tiny hands on the blue stone, 

“Papa.” 


	24. Epilogue

Five years had passed since Louis died. Harry still hadn’t remarried, and he never will. To him, he made a vow to Louis that will last forever. No one ever tried to push him to re marry, the whole country knew of his love for Louis. It was legend. 

He had spent the last five years doing exactly what he should. He had gone to every kingdom, talking of a United Kingdom. Talks of trade deals and a loss of borders. He was seen as the one true King, but he hated that title. He didn’t deserve it. That title should be Louis’. He looked after Louis’ sisters as he should, as Louis would have. They all called him their brother, and he protected them fiercely. He only agreed to Georgia’s marriage when she said she wanted to, when she said she was in love. Only then was he happy. He had Louis’ mother’s portrait moved to the throne room, next to a portrait of their family; Louis, Harry and their children. Their family, all in one place. For everyone to see. He had Louis’ father’s portrait burned, it was the one thing he did where he didn’t care what Louis would’ve thought. That man killed Louis. He didn’t deserve to be remembered.

One morning his bedroom door opened to five young faces running in and giggling. They all jumped on the bed, shrieking and laughing. His kids. Their kids. Marta was seven years old now - the oldest of them all, the youngest was Klaudia, only three. He had adopted the children over time, but loved them all equally. And despite their ages, they all understood that their Papa was in heaven, and they loved to go out to the gardens and show him their drawings, and talk about their days. That was their normal. Some may say it’s morbid, and that Harry should just move on. But how could he? They’re a family no matter where they are, and it’s going to stay that way until Harry sees Louis again. 

Louis looks down from the clouds, he talks to their children, some tell him to move on, but he wants to see his children grow up. He notes how big Luke has gotten. He’s so proud of them, they look like Harry. All of them. 

Harry can see Louis in their children. He sees him in Klaudia’s blue eyes, in Luke’s sense of humour, in Rebecca’s love. He sees him in Marta’s kindness and Harriets laugh. All of his children together create Louis, create who he was and what he wanted to put out into the world. 

He knows it’s not biologically possible for their children to be a mixture of the both of them, but he liked to believe that when he died, he left a bit of his soul in each of their children. For Harry to find. 

That evening, there came a quiet knock at Harry’s bedroom door, he accepted the entry and in walked a blonde haired, rose eyed king. Niall had decided to stay in Sapphire for Harry, his kingdom didn’t need him yet, but Harry did.

“Hey Haz.” 

He said almost shyly. Harry furrowed his brows at the tone of his voice. 

“What’s wrong, Ni?” 

Niall stood in the doorway, eyes staring at the floor, and shrugged his shoulders. Harry put down the papers that he was previously reading and slowly walked up to Niall. 

“Niall?” 

They meet each other’s eyes and Harry noticed a cream envelope in Niall’s hands. 

“What is that?” 

Niall moved the letter closer to Harry, 

“He asked us to only give it to you when you were ready.” 

Harry feels his eyes prick with tears, 

“Who?” 

His voice wobbles as he already knows the answer, 

“Louis. He wrote it when he collapsed, on your wedding day.” 

Harry reaches out for the envelope, hand shaking, heart beating fast. 

“And you think I’m ready?” 

Niall shrugs, his eyes kind, 

“I think you’re as ready as you’re ever going to be.” 

Harry nodded his head, tears slipping out of his eyes. He can hear his heart beat in his ears. He sees his name written in Louis’ handwriting and traces the letters delicately, imagining the pen in the candle light of that night. 

“One other thing.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Louis didn’t mean what he said, all those years ago. Your mother made him.” 

Harry meets the pink eyes, and sighs before shaking his eyes. 

“I thought so.” 

Harry shrugs as Niall leaves, it’s behind them. 

But, up above, Louis makes a note to kick Nialls ass when he dies.

Harry looks in the mirror before he reads, he sees Louis eyes. His have now fully changed to the bright blue that belonged to him. It’s the only reason he looks in the mirror now. He cut his hair soon after Louis died, it just reminded him of all the time it grew, so he cut it for a fresh start. Unfortunately that just made it worse, because Louis loved his hair, and now Harry had cut it, had forgotten him in a way. Harry ones these thoughts were silly, and hadn’t really forgotten his love but he can’t help how he feels. 

Harry decides on a walk in order to prepare himself. He looks over the hills and trees, the dirt roads and the blue sky. And he just thinks of how beautiful Sapphire is. It’s the most beautiful kingdom without a doubt, obviously only in Harry’s opinion. 

Harry sits down upon a hill, overlooking a valley where the river sparkles in the sunlight, feeling almost faint. He carefully and slowly breaks the navy wax seal on the back, and starts to read aloud to himself. 

“My dearest Harry...” 

*** 

_ My Dearest Harry,  _

_ If you’re reading this, Niall has decided that you’re strong enough to, and I’m so proud of you, baby, so, so proud, you’ve gotten through it. And honestly, I’m sorry to be writing this to you, I’m not sure it’s fair but I want you to have something from me, something more than a memory you can keep forever. I want this to be something you show  ~~ our ~~ _ _your children, tell them about me, won’t you? Tell them about us, our love. Tell them how love is really the strongest force in this universe. Tell them how much I love them. We were so silly not to take photographs together, but we thought we had forever. I suppose everyone does when they’re young. And we were so_ _young, weren’t we, darling? So young and foolish, how silly those moments seem now, those days where we argued over nothing or were too scared to say how we felt._

_ I want you to know that I don’t blame you for anything, I don’t blame you for running those times, I would have done the same. I’m sorry that I hurt you, my baby. I hope you can forgive me for that. Well, I hope you can forgive me for everything, everything I put you through, it wasn’t fair, and it certainly isn’t fair that we didn’t get a proper wedding night, or honeymoon, or well, a lifetime together. We were supposed to grow old together, and die old men in our bed, hands clasped together.  _

_ I’m not sure what to put in this letter, I guess I’m just going to say everything I’ve ever wanted to say to you, and what I won’t be able to say.  _

_ I wish we had more time, time to dance in the kitchen at midnight. Time to argue and laugh. Time for you to come up with more of those stupid knock knock jokes. I am happy to die with the knowledge that you are alive. And you will heal from this, I’m sorry to break your heart like this but I don’t have any say in it. Trust me, you know I wouldn’t be writing a fucking letter to you if I had a say in anything. You are everything I could have wanted in a person, you are the absolute love of my life, and I hope that I am yours. But that being said, please don’t deprive yourself of love if it comes knocking. _

_ But we made it, you’re mine forever and I’m yours. I hope you look back at the time we spent together with a smile. I know I do. I remember all the sunrises we shared, all of the stars. I want you to live your life the way you deserve to. Go out and travel. Fall in and out of love. Laugh like you have no worries. Sleep until noon and watch the sunsets by the sea. Take your children there. I will always be here, I will wait for you. But don’t you wait for me, you have a life to live, so you go out there and live it for me, Harry Styles. You need to let the world see you shine, I need to see you shine again.  _

_ I want you to remember the feeling you had, the feeling we had. How it felt to feel young and free. You were willing and ready to get things wrong. Hold on to that. Onto that fearlessness. For me. You’re not some haggard old man who’s wise beyond his years, no you’re not, don’t argue with me. You are young, free, go be young and free.  _

_Would you do something else for me? Would you, Haz? I want you live and die an old man, warm in your bed. Would you do that for me? I want to watch you live your life to the fullest, without me. If there’s ever something you’re unsure if you should do, do it. You do it, Harry. And you enjoy it. You deserve that at the very least. But don’t just do it for me, do it for you. Because you cannot spend the_ _next sixty years living for me, or being angry for me. Live for you. And let me go, let that anger go, I know you’re angry, so go to the top of a cliff and yell. Curse the whole universe if you must, just let it go._

_ Keep writing your songs, record yourself. The world deserves to hear your words. All I want is for you to be happy. Please don’t say that that’s impossible without me, because it isn’t. You will be happy Harry, because if you’re not then what exactly am I dying for? My life would have been nothing if you’re not happy. Nothing.  _

_I’ll see you again, darling. There’s a castle in the sky where I’ll be waiting for you. It’s great and it’s beautiful. I’ll be happy there, don’t you worry about me._ _It doesn’t even hurt, not anymore. I’ll be watching over you, always. You’re my baby, you’ll always be my baby._

_ I wish I had said more to you, I should’ve told you how I felt everyday. How your smile makes butterflies in my stomach or how hearing you sing is like angels singing for me. I don’t have long left, but that’s okay. It is, don’t say it isn’t. I’ve had more than enough love in this lifetime. And that’s all thanks to you. You made me feel real, feel seen, and I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for that. _

_But, I guess what I want to say is that I love you. I have always loved you, it’s only ever been you. I should have told you more. Said it everyday. And I will_ _always regret that. My heart is yours. My heart, my soul, my body. They’re yours. Forever._

_ Always in my heart, Harry Styles,  _

_ Yours Sincerely,  _

_ Louis _

_ ~The End~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all,   
> Thank you so so so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, I’m sorry it’s so sad.   
> Thank you,  
> Becca x


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